


When all Seems Lost

by Intricate6



Series: Drowning in the Sea of Anxiety [2]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Cutting, Depression, Eating Disorders, Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2020-01-05 03:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18357458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intricate6/pseuds/Intricate6
Summary: Jisung had been doing better, a lot better. He hadn't cut in months, panic attacks were becoming farther and farther apart. However, with their upcoming comeback, things had taken a turn for the worse mental health wise and Jisungs struggles to stay afloat.This takes place a couple of months after the end of Drowning in the Sea of Anxiety, but it can stand on its own and reading Drowning is not necessary to understand this fic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warnings!! Look at the tags!!

It had been 5 months since Jisung started his meds, three since he had last cut. He was eating 3 well-balanced meals a day, his weight was firmly in the healthy range and lately he had been feeling great. He was still attending therapy once a week, had finally fully warmed up to his therapist, felt comfortable talking to her. He had been improving for so long, starting to feel more normal. Sure, there was still anxiety, there always would be, but it wasn’t constantly crippling, mind-numbing, all-consuming. It was, for the most part, manageable. He knew how to deal with panic attacks, how to identify them before they got too bad and halt their course. His bad days were as bad as a regular day for him before he started the meds. Sure, it still sucked having anxiety and depression, there were times someone had to drag him up in the morning or lead him home from where he was sobbing in one of the studios, but nothing was quite as awfully, unbearably bad as Before. In fact, it was unimaginable to him that at one point in time he couldn’t function because of his mental illness, had made himself actually, physically sick without realizing it. Things had simply been going better than before and Jisung was grateful. He was happy that the medicine and therapy and all of his hard work was paying off. It felt so gratifying to look back and see how far he had come. 

However, things began to become increasingly stressful as they prepared for their upcoming comeback. Dance practices would last well into the night as they worked on perfecting every little detail of their performance. There was music video filming, vocal practices, and various variety shows that they were attending. Everyday their schedule was packed and they never got home until late, leaving little time for sleep.

Everyone was exhausted, napping whenever they could, and more often than not, Jisung found himself passing out in the most unconventional of places: the tile floor of their dorm, the studio, the kitchen table, basically anywhere he was for more than two seconds. The members would oftentimes just drape a blanket over Jisung wherever had fallen asleep, every once in a while waking him up to get him to climb into his bed, or at least the couch. However, everyone was tired and no one thought it was out of the usual, Jisung included. It was just another part of being an idol. 

 

“Jisung, Jisung, you have to get up. Let’s go, we’re going to be late.”

Jisung groaned and rolled over, ignoring their youngest member’s pestering. He just needed a couple more minutes of sleep. He’d get up soon…

“I’m going to get Minho,” Jeongin threatened, but Jisung was too far out of it to care.

Suddenly a body was on top of his, smashing him into the mattress; then an arm was around his leg, yanking him off he bed in one smooth motion. Jisung crashed into the hard floor and his eyes flew open, “Minho!”

The older just looked looked at him with his messed up hair and eyes half-lidded with sleep and laughed, “Let’s go, we have a long day ahead of us.”

“Fine,” Jisung stumbled to his feet and started to rummage around for an outfit to wear. In the middle of grabbing a long sleeve shirt, Jisung felt a sudden shot of anxiety fire its way through his stomach and chest. His movement halted. This couldn’t be happening, not now, he had to go to practice, he couldn’t be an anxious mess, but the feeling refused to cease its torrent that it wrecked on Jisung. 

With shaking hands, Jisung eventually managed to pull on a random pair of clothes and stumble into the kitchen, feeling as if he was going to die, as if the world was ending. His mind was spinning, reeling, and he couldn’t get it back under control. He felt as if every breath he was taking was getting stuck in his chest, unable to get out, trapped. His brain was screaming, all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball underneath his bed, cuddle with one of the other members until this awful feeling went away, but he didn’t want to burden anyone, didn’t want to drag the team down any more than he already had. So, as he stepped into the kitchen Jisung didn’t say anything as he accepted the piece of toast Woojin gave him with a smile. 

Jisung sunk into the chair beside Felix, slowly chewing at the food that tasted like ash in his mouth. Felix, too, was picking at his food. Comebacks were hard for everybody, especially when it came to eating. You always wanted to look your best for the fans, wanted your body to be in the best shape possible. 

This morning Changbin was seated on the other side of Felix, his big breakfast in front of him, encouraging the younger to eat, keeping him distracted with crazy jokes and stories.

“Did you now that I once got run over by a car?”

“Really?” Felix took a bite.

“Yeah, I had decided to take a nap underneath my father’s car because it was shady under there and he just backed up right over me!”

“That’s ridiculous.” Felix took another bite, “Why on Earth would you do something like that? Please tell me you were really young.”

“15,”

“Changbin! You should’ve known better.” 

Jisung watched in fascination, as their conversation continued and the food on Felix’s plate slowly disappeared.

When Changbin and Felix were finished, Jisung glanced down at his own plate and found that it too, was surprisingly empty. Changbin shot him a grin, seeing the surprised look on his face, it appeared that he was well aware that Jisung was listening into their conversation, that sneak. But, he couldn’t complain, his food was gone and he didn’t even feel guilty about it. Changbin sure was a miracle worker. 

As soon as his dishes were put away, Hyunjin was grabbing his hand and dragging him to the door, “Come on, we’re the last ones to leave. Chan’s already there and Minho and Woojin and Jeongin and Seungmin left forever ago.”

Jisung let himself be dragged out of the door, him and Hyunjin only a few steps behind Felix and Changbin. 

“Maybe if we beat them there, Chan won’t be mad that we’re late,” Hyunjin leaned over to whisper conspiratorly in his ear. And with those words, they were taking off, laughing maniacally as they passed Felix and Changbin. The cool air felt great flying through Jisung’s hair and with his hand held tightly in Hyunjin’s he forgot about all of his worries. 

They did manage to beat Felix and Changbin to the practice room and were only a couple minutes late. Chan still glared at them when the breathlessly stumbled into the room, but Changbin and Felix got the real scolding, albeit half hearted. 

Then, Chan was starting up the music to “Miroh” and Jisung focused on nailing the tough choreography. The sharp movements helped him to feel more awake, and the burn in his muscles distracted him from his feelings.

When they finished they were all out of breath, but Chan instantly launched into the next thing: “We were a little off in the dance break, so let's run that again and I’ll record it so we can see what to fix.”

Everyone nodded and shuffled to their positions before running the part again. 

Again, Jisung lost himself in the movements, hyper focused on getting everything perfectly right, training his muscle memory. When the music came to a stop, Jisung felt proud of his performance, he had nailed everything from his facial expression to the movements themselves.

They all grabbed water while Chan and Minho went over the video.

“Jisung, right here you got to this movement a little late and right here your arm is lower than everyone else’s, try to work on those next time,” Minho advised and Jisung nodded as the dancer went on to fix little things about the performance. However, his mind was reeling. He had done bad, he had failed. He was a disappointment. He couldn't do anything right. He wasn’t even a good judge of his own success. It didn’t matter to him that everyone else had something that they needed to fix, Chan and Minho included, all he could think about was his own failure, his own let down.

The feeling in his chest returned. He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. The world narrowed to just himself, he couldn’t see or feel anything else. He was trapped inside his own head. 

_ Breathe _ , he thought to himself,  _ You need to breathe _ .

Slowly, Jisung inhaled, counting to four in his head. A long exhale for the count of eight followed. He repeated the process a couple of times, his heart rate gradually slowing down until he felt as if he was no longer on the edge of a panic attack. However, the tight feeling in his chest refused to cease and Jisung felt mildly calmer, but still uncomfortable. 

Before he had time to fully recover, Chan was calling them back into formation and they were starting the dance break over again. 

Throughout the rest of practice the anxious feeling in Jisung’s chest never quite went away. 

 

It was late and Jisung was absolutely exhausted. They were finally back in the dorm after a long day of dance practice, vocal training, and preparing for variety shows. All Jisung wanted to do was go to sleep; however, he couldn’t just yet. He still had to eat and get ready for bed and he wanted to work on some lyrics before finally hitting the hay. 

Jisung had stayed back at the studio longer, wanting to perfect his pronunciation of his rap while dancing and practice his song for the masked singer, so he had missed the dinner that Woojin had made for the members that were now asleep. He wasn’t alone, though, Chan and Hyunjin had both stayed back to work on various things and Hyunjin had guilted Jisung and Chan to come home with him, claiming he’d be too scared to walk home by himself. 

Jisung couldn’t even bring himself to be mad at Hyunjin, though. He was too grateful for the comforting presence that him and Chan brought to the dorm. It was painful being alone at night, especially when he felt like this, like the world was going to break into a million pieces, like he was becoming undone at the seams. The presence of the others grounded him in a way, they kept him from falling apart, from digging himself too deep into his head.

In fact right now, Hyunjin and Chan were working on heating up ramen while Jisung was sitting at the table. Apparently he was not trusted to boil water in the microwave anymore. He had only made the ramen explode once and it wasn’t really his fault he had forgotten to cover it--he had been really tired. But now he had to prove that he wasn’t “a danger to society” in the kitchen before he allowed to touch anything that wasn’t the fridge or the pantry. 

The microwave suddenly dinged, bringing Jisung out of his half-asleep state as Chan and Hyunjin walked over with steaming bowls of ramen.

“Don’t burn yourself,” Chan warned and Jisung set back down his chopsticks, slouching in his chair. 

“Cheer up,” Hyunjin teased, “We just don’t want to hear you complaining for days about how your mouth hurts and we didn’t give you an adequate warning before you dug in.”

Jisung just groaned and rest his head on the table, waiting for the ramen to cool down to a tolerable level. 

Several minutes later, Chan was nudging him and Jisung was finally allowed to begin eating his dinner. Halfway through his feast, Jisung’s eyes began to droop closed and he fought against the urge to fall asleep, just wanting to be able to eat. Plus, he still had stuff to do, he couldn’t possibly fall asleep right now. However, his body seemed to have other plans because he only vaguely remembers shoveling a few more bites into his mouth before practically face planting in his bowl, Chan quickly grabbing him and half carrying him to his bed; Jisung promptly falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

 

A scream pierced the air and Jisung jolted awake, falling out of his bed in the process. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted out of his room, socks sliding on the floor as he mad his mad dash for the living room. Sliding into the room, Jisung was not greeted with the sight of someone bleeding out on the floor, instead, Seungmin was tickling Jeongin, the younger letting out squeals of laughter. 

A sigh sounded from behind Jisung. He turned around to see Chan standing behind him, heavily leaning against the wall. Woojin materialized out of seemingly nowhere, and gently lead Chan back to his bed, “You don’t need to be up yet, I have everything covered.”

The two youngest on the floor looked up at the sound of Woojin’s voice, “Oh, sorry Jisung. Did we wake you up?”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Jisung said with a yawn, stumbling over to the couch before falling back asleep.

 

The next time Jisung woke up was to a body laying on top of him. He let out a loud groan and futilely pushed at the weight on top of him. 

“I told you it would work,” the mass on top of him spoke with Minho’s voice.

“Minho,” Jisung whined, “Please get off of me. You’re so heavy.”

“That’s rude,” Minho grumbled, rolling off to the side, allowing Jisung to wriggle out from underneath him. Halfway off the couch, he lost his balance and fell onto the floor with a loud thud. 

Minho’s head peeked out over the edge of the couch, “You good?”

Jisung didn’t respond, just silently climbed to his feet and limped off. 

Minho was off the couch and by his side in an instant, “What do you want for lunch?”

“Lunch?” Jisung checked the time, and sure enough, it was 11:00. “Why didn’t you wake me up earlier? Where is everyone else?”

“The manager said to let you and Chan sleep. Hyunjin said that you just completely crashed last night, and we didn’t want you to burn yourself out.’

“Oh, I’m really not that tired, though. Plus I still have stuff I need to work on. I’ll just head to the studio now.”

Minho grabbed onto his arm, “Not so fast. You aren’t going anywhere by yourself and I promised to wait for Chan to wake up, so how about you sit down and eat some lunch?”

Jisung grumbled, but sat down in the chair Minho gestured to, slumping his chin onto the table. Soon, lunch was served and Jisung found himself hungrily tearing into the meal. Once he finished, he bussed his dishes and then turned to Minho, “Since you’re holding me captive, you have to help me prepare for The Masked Singer.”

An hour of singing and playful fighting later, Chan was emerging from his room, rubbing his eyes, and muttering, “What time is is?”

“12:30,” Jisung answered dryly.

“What? Wait, I have to go in, I have stuff to do. Why did you let me sleep so long? Where is everyone else?”

“They apparently let us sleep in.”

Chan pulled on his coat and mask, “Well, are you ready to go?”

Minho just sighed in defeat and pulled out his phone muttering something along the lines of, “Wait until Woojin hears about this.”

A couple minutes later, the trio was walking down the street, heading to the JYP building. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments and follow me on Twitter @6_intricate


	2. Chapter 2

It was vocal practice and Jisung was dying. He was so tired. His eyelids felt like they were made out of lead and it took so much effort to keep them open. His words were slurrying, brain operating at half its normal speed. He had only been up for 3 hours; he had slept 8 hours last night. Why was he so tired?

After missing his note and stumbling over his rap for the millionth time, the vocal coach just sighed. “Let’s take a break.”

Jisung just meekly nodded in response and guzzled his water bottle. He was never going to be ready for The Masked Singer. He couldn't even make it through a simple practice. He was such a failure, couldn’t do anything, couldn’t dance, couldn’t sing, couldn’t rap, couldn’t even stay awake. He was a weight bringing Stray Kids down, they’d be better off without him. 

Suddenly, Jisung could no longer breathe. His airway was closing up. He couldn’t do this, couldn’t do this, couldn’t do this. He curled up into a ball, tucking his head into his knees, screwing his eyes shut, trying his best not to see the world.

_ You need to calm down,  _ he told himself,  _ You’re such an embarrassment, the vocal coach is right there and you can’t even pull yourself together to seem normal in front of them. You just need to stop being so dramatic and just breathe. It’s not that hard, so why can’t you do it? _

Jisung just spiralled even further into his head, into his thoughts, into his panic. He hardly even noticed the tears streaming down his cheeks, the way his whole body was shaking, rocking back and forth. He was an awful person. Worthless. He should just die. Everyone would be better off without him. If he was dead he could finally rest in peace. 

Jisung was so out of it that he hadn’t even realized the vocal coach had left until they were walking back in, manager and Chan in tow. Chan quickly squatted down next to Jisung, “Hey, mate, it’s okay. It’s just a panic attack. It’ll pass.” 

Jisung shook his head. The logical part of his body knew that Chan was right, but in the moment he felt like the wave of panic was never going to end. He was going to be stuck in this awful place forever. Inside his head, never getting out. 

“Is it okay if I touch you?” a voice made its way through the void.

Jisung desperately shook his head in response. He couldn’t do touch right now. He was too on edge. Any stimulus would physically pain him, cause more harm than good.

Chan was understanding, though, and simply just kept talking unaffected by Jisung’s answer: “Listen to my voice okay? I just need you to do that for me, alright? It’s really simple, you just have to listen as I talk. There you go, you’re doing so well already. Did you know that the other day Seungmin laughed so hard at lunch that noodles came out of his nose? ‘Cuz he really did. It was so funny; I just couldn’t stop laughing. And poor Seungmin looked horrified, we were in the JYP cafeteria and anyone could’ve seen him.”

Slowly Jisung began to unfurl from his tight ball, gradually gaining control back over his body.

Chan kept talking: “And then for the rest of the day Hyunjin wouldn’t stop teasing him and Seungmin kept complaining that his nose hurt. You know how they can be.”

Jisung was finally able to feel like air was entering his lungs, his heart stopped pounding quite so hard in his chest. He sat up and held his arms out to Chan who quickly obliged, wrapping Jisung in a tight hug.

They stayed like that, tightly wrapped together, until Jisung was finally able to vanquish the voices in his head telling him that his was a failure, worthless. Chan helped with that, having his loving leader so close reminded Jisung that he was worth it, was valuable.

Finally, Jisung broke away from the hug, “Thank you,” he muttered, looking at the ground.

“Anything for you,” Chan easily responded, “How about you come back to the studio with me?”

“But I haven’t finished my vocal lessons yet.”

Chan looked up at the vocal coach, expectantly. “Oh, we were pretty much done anyway. Go ahead,” the man seemed slightly overwhelmed at what he had witnessed, but Chan was unaffected, instantly dragging Jisung to his feet and down the hallway.

As soon as they reached one of the studios, Chan sat Jisung down and knelt down in front of him, “Are you good now? What triggered it?”

Jisung looked down at his lap and fiddled with his hands, “Yeah, I’m good now. I was probably just tired or something.”

Chan looked skeptical, but just simply nodded and sat down in front of the computer and started to work on a track, occasionally asking Jisung what he thought. 

Jisung was happy to help, to take his mind off of his panic attack earlier, but soon he found his eyes drifting closed, held down by an impossible weight, and he quickly fell asleep sitting in the studio chair.

 

“Jisung, it’s time to get up.”

Jisung groggily opened his eyes to Chan gently stroking his hair. He was still so tired and his mind felt fuzzy and thick. He couldn’t properly think. 

“Hey buddy. It’s time for dinner and Woojin said he wanted everyone to be home in time to eat; he sounded pretty serious when he came in.”

“Okay,” Jisung muttered, swaying as he stood up, “Woojin’s scary.”

Chan grabbed Jisung’s arm to steady him, letting the younger lean against him as they started their walk home.

Jisung really just wanted to go back to sleep. But he couldn’t. His head hurt and his whole body felt numb and weird and floaty. It was the feeling of a hard nap, of utter exhaustion left uncured by sleep. This was the kind of tiredness that reached into your bones and sucked out all of your energy, left you unable to function. A fog was covering Jisung’s mind. It was too hard to think. 

He lifted up his hand and wiggled his fingers. They moved. But they didn’t feel like they were a part of his body. Jisung felt disconnected from reality, from his body, from life. Was he even really there, on Earth? He wasn’t sure. Everything just felt so weird, so off, so far away. His legs were moving, but they weren’t. Was any of this even real?

Through the fog, Jisung dimly felt Chan wrapping his arm around him, supporting his stumbling weight, helping him make the walk back to the dorm.

He needed to snap out of this funk, get back into reality, but living in the clouds was so much more comfortable. He felt safer, his anxiety didn’t matter, his depression wasn’t affecting him. Jisung just wanted to stay in this headspace forever. Sure, maybe it was a little weird not being able to feel his body properly, to be trapped in this foggy, weird state, but then again it was kind of nice.

They were in their dorm. Jiung was seated at the kitchen table. How did that happen? He was confused, disoriented, but too lazy to actually think. Food was placed in front of him; he just stared at it. 

Dimly he overheard some of the members talking:

“Is Jisung okay?” Woojin asked.

“I don’t know,” Chan responded, “He had a panic attack earlier and then took a five hour nap in the studio.”

“But he’s still so tired?” Changbin remarked.

“Yeah,” Chan sighed, “I don’t quite know what’s up.

After that, Jisung drifted back into his head, opting to pay attention to the backs of his hands rather than their conversation. He gently traced a vein, revealing at the sensation it produced. He then wiggled his fingers, watching them move as if they were some sort of science experiment. It was so weird how you could just command your fingers to move and they would, it hardly took any thought.

“Jisung, you have to eat.” A voice broke through the void, saying his name. It was Minho.

By the time Jisung had finally processed what had been said, food was touching his lips and Jisung obediently opened his mouth for Minho, letting the food enter. It was tasteless. A mush. Jisung just  mechanically chewed and swallowed, then started to trace the grains of wood. They were fascinating, calming, grounding.

The rest of dinner passed similarly, Jisung off in his own world, only eating the food that Minho forced him to. Then dinner was over, and someone lead Jisung to his bed, where the rapper promptly collapsed, burying his head in his blankets.

Suddenly, all of his thoughts came rushing back. He had done nothing all day, just had a panic attack and slept. He was a failure, couldn't even feed himself. He was dragging the group down with his ineptitude. Jisung didn't deserve their love, their kindness. Tears started to leak out of his eyes and soon he found himself sobby into his pillow. The urge to cut overcame him, but he was too tired to act on it; instead falling asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short, life has been hard lately and I'm just trying to stay afloat lol.
> 
> The next chapter should be out in a week!!  
> Also, I love reading comments so feel free to leave some if you want :-)!!!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

Jisung felt a little better the next morning, he was in his body at least, mind working, hands moving like they should. Everything still had a fuzzy sort of tint to it, but at least he was functional. 

The morning went smoothly, Jisung managed to pick out clothes that matched and everyone ate breakfast without a fuss. They even managed to make it out of the door in a timely manner without Chan having to yell at them. If the morning was any sign, it seemed as if it was going to be an auspicious day. 

However, once they left the dorm to make the short trek to the JYP building, a familiar heaviness settled in Jisung’s limbs. It suddenly felt like there were weights tied to his feet; it took so much effort to just take a single step. He slowed down, falling behind the rest of the group. Felix, noticing that Jisung was dropping behind, slowed down so that they could walk side by side.

“You good?” the Aussie asked.

Jisung just shrugged in response. He truly wasn’t feeling the best. In fact, Jisung felt awful for no reason at all. His legs were heavy, impossible to move, his mood had suddenly dropped, it was getting harder to breathe, to think, but he had taken the majority of the day off yesterday and he couldn’t do the same thing again today; especially because there was absolutely no reason for him to feel this way. Nothing had happened recently, and everyone else was dealing with their comeback just fine, so why couldn’t he? 

Instead of feeling fine, Jisung was stuck with this awful, unshakable feeling. His chest was sinking, heart aching. He wanted to cry, but no tears came out. He just felt so much nothing, so much overwhelming sadness that he couldn’t function. 

Jisung slowed down even more, feeling too awful to think straight. He just couldn’t move. It was all too much. He just wanted to sleep forever, close his eyes and never wake up, be at peace for once.

“You know that it’s okay not to be okay sometimes, yeah?” Felix’s voice cut through the void of space in Jisung’s head.

“Yeah,” Jisung muttered. His lips felt heavy and forcing the word out through his mouth was almost painful. If he had the energy he would’ve explained to Felix that yeah it was fine to be not okay, but Jisung had felt as if lately he only not okay. He just wanted to be able to function, to contribute to the group. As of right now he was only dragging them down.  

Felix wrapped a comforting arm around Jisung, but the rapper just shrugged it off. He didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve to be comforted when he was such an unnecessary mess. One day everyone was going to realize how broken he was and he’d be kicked off of Stray Kids. It’s what he deserves. 

All too soon they were entering the JYP Building and people were flying by, greeting them, but Jisung was just trying to stay afloat and follow Felix, but it was all too much and he felt like he was drowning as the world flew by, but soon they were in the practice room and Chan was pulling him aside to talk and wow Jisung just really couldn’t function right now and-

“Jisung? Jisung? Look at me, you got this,” Chan’s voice cut through the void and Jisung painfully forced his eyes to focus. “Hey man, can you tell me what’s going on right now?”

Jisung opened his mouth to answer, but the words just wouldn’t come out. They got stuck somewhere in his throat, his mind too broken to work. He was dying, drowning, floating away, sinking in a sea of sadness.

“Okay, we’re going to be working on the choreo for Victory Song, do you think you can do that?”

Jisung just shrugged in response. He didn’t care. All he wanted to do was lay down and sleep forever, to never have to leave his bed or try to function ever again.

“Okay, so I think that’s a no,” Chan mused, “How about you and Seungmin go to one of the practice rooms to rest while the rest of us split up to work on learning English and stuff? We can reconvene in like 2 hours?”

Jisung nodded and slowly dragged his feet, following Seungmin to one of the personal practice rooms after Chan explained the plan to him. On their way there, Seungmin stayed blessfully silent and didn’t pester Jisung with questions about what was wrong, which Jisung was eternally grateful for. 

In the room, Jisung fell heavily onto the couch and scrunched his eyes closed, trying to rid his mind of the demons that lurked there.

“Is it okay if I practice my vocals?”

Jisung shrugged and Seungmin began to warm up his voice. His friend’s calming vocals were all the motivation Jisung needed to drift into a deep sleep, utterly exhausted from the torrent inside his head. 

 

“Jisung, you gotta get up now. Chan said it’s time for practice.” For once Seungmin was actually kind in his method of waking up Jisung--probably a testament to how bad Jisung was looking earlier that day.

With a groan, Jisung sat up and forced his gritty eyes open. Tiredness still clung to him like a blanket and it was hard to shake the fogginess from his head. Somehow the nap had not helped his state of mind at all. Jisung still felt as if he was sinking through the dark depths of the ocean, spiralling out of control; he was prepared to crash and burn. Inside his chest was just so much emptiness, so much  _ nothing _ that he just couldn’t focus. 

Still, Jisung forced himself to stand on weak legs and shakily follow Seungmin to the dance room. Everyone was already gathered inside, going through a plethora of stretches, warming up their bodies. Jisung and Seungmin joined the laughing group, Seungmin naturally fitting into the conversation, while Jisung just sat there, feeling like an outsider. It wasn’t that he was being excluded, he could join in if he wanted to, but words still wouldn’t come out of his mouth, he couldn’t bring himself to laugh with the others.

“Feeling better?” Chan was suddenly by his side, looking down at Jisung with worry in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” Jisung muttered, the words sounding rough as they were forced out of his sandpaper throat.

“Okay, just tell me if you need to stop.” And with that Chan was leaving and Jisung’s heart was crying out as he was left alone in his head. Jisung suddenly needed comfort, he wanted to cuddle, to feel someone close to him, their warmth seeping into his bones. His chest was aching, crying out for comfort.

Jisung moved over to Minho and rested his head on the older’s shoulder. “Not right now, Jisung.” Minho shrugged Jisung off of his shoulder, looking annoyed. Jisung felt his heart sink. Minho didn’t want him; he was unworthy, awful, a burden.

Heart crushed, Jisung scooted over to where Hyunjin was stretching, arms outstretched to grab his feet, and laid his head in Hyunjin’s lap. “Jisung, I need to stretch, stop being like this.” Yet another rejection. He really just couldn’t do anything right today.

Before Jisung had a chance to try another member to get the touch he craved, Chan was calling everyone together to start practice and soon “Victory Song” was blaring through the speakers. 

Usually the music overtook Jisung’s body and the dance naturally followed, but that was not the case today. No, instead, Jisung’s legs weighed a million pounds, he couldn’t lift them up, he was swimming through molases, every step was a struggle. His brain refused to focus. The next steps seemed to elude him and Jisung just stumbled through the dance, always a beat behind, legs out of sync, arms not moving right. He just couldn’t do it. He couldn’t dance. It was too much, his brain was screaming. All he wanted to do was sleep, lay down and not do anything. Every movement was impossibly hard, his brain and his body were no longer connected. 

The music came to its end and Jisung collapsed down to the ground, breathign hard. He felt as if he had just run a marathon, not simply just danced a song. Through his half-opened eyes, Jisung vaguely noticed all the members moving around him, talking, but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to exert the energy to listen in. His chest was an empty cavern and Jisung just wanted everything to be over with, life to be over with. He just wanted to die. Then, at least, he’d finally be at peace, not have to deal with all of his feelings anymore. It would be for the best.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys for being a week late in posting this chapter. Life has been really rough lately and things have kind of been going downhill. That being said, I probably won't be updating this chapter until around May 20th when all of my AP test and final are through with. I promise I'm not abandoning this fic or any of my others, just taking a break so I can get my stuff together and focus on school and mental health. Thank you for being understanding and please leave comments! I absolutely love reading what you guys have to say!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check the tags before you read this chapter, it could be triggering for some people.

He wasn’t dead. 

Jisung’s first thought when his eyes cracked open, blinking rapidly against the bright fluorescent lights of the practice room, was that he wasn’t dead. He was unfortunately still very much alive. Regrettably still breathing, heart still beating. Jisung just wished that it could all be over, that he could be done with, that he could be dead.

Chan and Minho were kneeling by his side, both looking down at him, worried. Chan had that tell-tale crease between his eyebrows and Minho had his hand gently resting on Jisung’s arm, head tilted slightly to the side as he looked down at the younger. 

“Are you okay?” Chan spoke first, eyes brewing with concern and worry.

“You just collapsed, why didn’t you tell us you weren’t feeling up to dancing today?” Minho spoke next, words slightly blurring together, talking fast in his worry.

Jisung just gave a half-hearted shrug in response; he wasn’t feeling up to talking. The words stayed down deep in his chest, vocal cords refusing to vibrate. It just took so much energy, so much energy that he didn’t have. If he could just sleep forever, that would be great. He wanted to drift off into oblivion, never have to deal with the trouble of the world ever again.

Minho refused to let him do that, though because the next thing Jisung knew, a water bottle was being thrust into his face, “drink,” he was commanded by the dancer.

Slowly, Jisung’s hand reached out to grasp the cool surface of the sweating bottle, hands shaking as he unscrewed the cap and tipped the water into his mouth. The cool water soothed his dry throat, but he only managed one sip before the heaviness overcame him and his arm drifted towards the floor, gravity taking over. He was so tired, so slow. Jisung just needed everything to stop, the world to stop. Then maybe he would have a chance to regain control over himself, to snap his brain out of the funk it had fallen into, clear the fog from his mind so that he could properly think.

“Jisung, Jisung,” Oh, Chan was calling his name. “How about you rest on the couch while we finish up practice, then you can go home?”

With a sluggish nod, Jisung was climbing to his feet and his legs were dragging as he walked over to the couch into the corner, the muscles tired and sore, refusing to properly function. All of his movements seemed to be in slow-mo as Jisung’s brain fought to catch up to whatever was happening. However, his thoughts continued to creep along in his head and it was too hard to overcome the urge just to give in to the darkness impeding on his vision. At least he managed to make it to the couch before falling asleep.

  
  


The next time Jisung opened up his eyes, Woojin was standing by his side, running his fingers through Jisung’s hair. “Hey buddy, ready to go home?”

Jisung groaned in response, and rubbed at his eyes. Dance practice appeared to be over and everyone was packing up their stuff or stretching out their tired muscles. A wave of guilt washed over Jisung at sight of all of his members looking exhausted while he had just slept through the day. Felix was panting, wiping sweat off his face with his shirt, while Jisung was just laying on the couch, doing nothing. 

“You know no one thinks bad of you for this, right?” Woojin asked after realizing where Jisung had been looking. “We don’t think you’re slacking. We all understand. It’s not your fault, and it’s more important that you rest right now so that you can feel better, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jisung muttered, still unconvinced by Woojin’s words. He was useless, worthless, undeserving, a waste of space. He couldn’t even function like a normal human being, he didn’t deserve a spot in Stray Kids, he only brought them down. His songs were unoriginal, dancing offbeat, rapping lacking flow. The group would be better without him. That way they wouldn't have to slow things down so he could catch up, stop to teach him, have to worry about him and whether he was taking care of himself. Plus without him, there wouldn’t have to be a crowded room of four, there could be two rooms of three and one of two. And eight was such a nice, even number, way better than nine.

Before Jisung’s thoughts could spiral even further, Woojin was grabbing his hand and leading Jisung out the door. “C’mon, we’re going to go home.”

“Oh,” Jisung muttered. His brain felt like it was stuffed with cotton, thoughts getting stuck, refusing to move. It was all he could do to keep his feet trudging forward, putting one foot in front of the other.

An arm wrapped around his shoulder and Jisung leaned into the touch. It was Felix. 

The Aussie didn’t say anything, but just his presence was enough. From his simple touch Jisung understood that Felix was there for him, silently giving him support. Sure, a conversation would probably follow when Jisung was feeling up to it, but for right now he could just relax into Felix’s arm slung around him and use the touch to help ground him to the present.

  
  


When they got back to the dorm, Jisung was vaguely aware of Felix sitting him down on the couch and Minho wrapping a blanket around him. Then, he was left alone with his thoughts as the other went to help make dinner and Jeongin laid on the floor playing video games on his phone. 

Slowly, Jisung was aware of himself drifting away from his body, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was too exhausting right now to keep from dissociating. It was so much easier just to sit back and watch it happen, just wait for his consciousness to disconnect itself from his physical form, for him to soon be starting down at himself, unable to recognize what was actually  _ him  _ anymore. 

Dissociating was weird like that, your body no longer feels connected to your mind. Your arm moves and you vaguely feel it, but you’re confused if it’s actually you doing the action. Everything seems a thousand miles away and you can’t seem to get any closer, to snap yourself back into reality, to get control back over your body, to stop being a statue, frozen in place. But then again, sometimes you don’t want to. Sometimes it’s just easier to stay in that state where you don’t actually have to feel yourself, and can just  _ be _ . Other times, however, there’s nothing you want more in the world than to be able to get back into your body, to be able to function and move normally once again.

Right now, Jisung was experiencing the former. It was so much easy to be up here, in outer space, than down there where everything seemed too real. Plus, it just took so much energy to get back into his body. Energy that he didn’t have. No, staying up in the clouds was by far the superior option.

Here he could just relax, float along on the wings of space and time, take solace in his mind. 

However, his members seemed to have different ideas: “Jisung, Jisung, Jisung!” somewhere way off in the distance someone was calling his name--what a nuisance. A hot, smooth substance was thrust into his hands, a bowl. It was hot. Vaguely, Jisung could feel discomfort as the heat seeped into his skin, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“You need to eat,” Minho said, but the words didn’t register in Jisung’s mind until food laden chopsticks were nudging at his lips. Numbly, Jisung opened his mouth and accepted the noodles, but the food had no taste. He just chewed and swallowed mechanically, not really registering anything that was happening around him.

Dinner was over. Jisung still hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch. It was too much effort; it was just so much easier to sit still and let his mind roam wherever it wanted. He didn’t have to face reality, could just fly around in his own thoughts, be whoever he wanted to be.

“Hey Jisung we need to talk,” Chan was home. And apparently he had different ideas for how the night would go. Talking to Chan required Jisung to actually be in his body, to be able to  think and pay attention to what the leader was saying. It was exhausting when he was in this state, but Jisung would never say no to Chan, he respected the older too much, so he slowly shifted his weight onto his feet and stood up.

Chan lead Jisung to his room and gestured for Jisung to sit on the bed next to him. Jisung slowly lowered himself onto the sheets, focusing on the feeling of them against his skin, how his clothes felt against his body. The sheets were smooth and soft, his jeans textured and slightly rough, he ran his fingers over them. He was going to get his mind back into his body if it was the last thing he did. And this was the bes way he knew how to do it.

Slowly, everything around him started to feel more real, the colors brighter, feelings more intense. He was back. It was time to finally face Chan.

Chan smiled when Jisung turned to face him on the bd, eyes looking more alert, “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Jisung replied, “Sorry about that.”

“Nah, you’re good. It’s nothing you can control, and you’re back now. I know that this has been a hard week for you, right?”

“Yeah,” that was one way to put it. This week had felt like Jisung was trapped, prisoner to his own thoughts, spiralling, falling. It was hard to just exist.

“So, what’s been going on? Is there anyway I can help you? Anything I can do?” Chan’s eyes were soft and compassionate, one of the reasons Jisung loved their leader so much: he truly cared. But, there was quite honestly nothing Chan could do to make things better, this was Jisung’s own battle inside his mind and no one else could quiet the demons. 

After a long pause to think, Jisung finally answered, “It’s just depression and stuff, and you can’t really do anything. This is my own battle to fight, ‘ya know?”

“Yeah,” Chan said softly, “I just want you to know that I’ll always be there for you, okay?”

“Thanks,” Jisung wrapped his leader in a big hug, relishing in the comforting feeling the touch brought. But all too soon Chan was leaving the room, leaving Jisung alone, alone with all of his thoughts. 

The minute the door closed behind Chan on his way out, all of Jisung’s demos started to scream at him and he collapsed face down onto his bed, feeling exhausted. The weight of the world was pressing down on his chest and he couldn’t breathe.

Tears started to seep through his pillow. He was useless, worthless. He just wanted everything to end. The sea inside his chest was eternal, soaked through with his tears. The sadness just kept on coming and coming and Jisung only had the energy to lay there, hopeless. 

It was as if someone had turned off all the light in his life, abandoned him in the desert without water, buried him deep under the ground. He was just so helpless, so hopeless, and there never seemed to be an end to this feeling. His thoughts were screaming at him and he couldn’t get them to stop:

_ You’re a failure _

_ You’re bringing the team down _

_ Chan only cares because you’re making his look bad _

_ It’s his job to care _

_ Everyone would prefer it if you were dead _

_ Everything would be better if you were dead. _

 

Everything would be better, Jisung realized. If he was dead he could finally sleep, finally rest, finally not feel sad anymore. The ocean of tears inside his chest would cease to exist. He would be free. He would be free.

Jisung scrambled off his bed and found the his medicine: beta blockers. He knew it would kill him if he took enough. Checking to make sure he had enough water, Jisung shook all of the pills out of the bottle and into the cap. Now, he wasn’t going to just blindly take pills, he knew there were not enough pills left in the bottle to actually kill him, so he wanted to make sure he knew how many he took. Sure, he was impulsive and stupid, but not suicidal--well not really.

Jisung methodically separated out the pills and began to count, the small blue capsules staring back at him, challenging.

There were 33 pills, so 660 mg. That wouldn’t kill him, he didn’t think so at least. But, if he suddenly completely ran out of meds, people would be suspicious. Jisung dumped 8 back into the container, now he was taking 25 pills, 500mg. Technically, the pills left in the bottle would only last him three days, but if he cut back his dosage to one a day, they would last him 8. That was good enough. 

Jisung took a deep breathe and popped 6 pills into his mouth. He regretted it immediately. The meds were bitter and made him gag. He took a huge gulp of water, but didn’t manage to swallow all of the pills. It was awful. The pills were powdery and dissolved in his mouth, causing him to gag once more. By some miracle, Jisung managed not to spit the pills out and got them down with his next swig of water. Oh god, that was awful, the taste was still lingering in his mouth and Jisung felt like puking. He still had 19 pills to go.

The remaining pills were swallowed in groups of twos and threes, the taste getting worse with each swallow. By the time Jisung was done, his hands were coated in blue powder, and had consumed over half of his water bottle, but the deed was done. Now, all that was left was for him to wait. The pills most likely weren’t going to kill him at least, but he would feel awful. Plus they’d take and hour or two to go into effect and six to kill him. He had plenty of time.

Jisung exited his room, he wanted to be with his members. Everyone was mostly gathered on the couch, Chan and Changbin still eating, everyone else playing Smash Bros. Jisung squeezed himself in between Felix and Hyunjin, and laid his head on Felix’s shoulder. “Hey mate, I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Yeah,” Jisung snuggled himself even closer into Felix’s side, feeling a shot of warmth shoot through him when Hyunjin slung his arm over his shoulder. “I really love you guys,” Jisung said, smiling at the truth in the words. He couldn’t imagine a world without his members in it.

“Hey, man, we love you too,” Hyunjin replied, Felix nodding in confirmation. Jisung heart melted at the words. If he could, he would just stay there forever, loved, laying in between his members. He really loved them with all his heart and soul. Jisung would be devastated if anything happened to them.

Wait, if he would be devastated if anything happened to them, how would they feel if they knew Jisung just took a crap ton of pills, if he died? He couldn’t put them through that. Chan would blame himself, the dorm would be too quiet, Felix would stop eating again. He couldn't do that to them, it was unfair. A stupid impulse could ruin everything. 

Tears started to form in Jisung’s eyes at the thought, and Minho instantly noticed, running to his side. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I just thought of how much I love you guys,” Jisung sobbed.

“Oh no, baby, we love you too.”

Within seconds, Jisung found himself in the middle of a group hug, affirmations of love being shared all around. It just made him cry harder. He could die tonight by his own hand and disappoint them all. 

Eventually the group hug broke apart and after playing a few rounds of Smash Bros and losing horribly, he excused himself, saying that he was tired and wanted to go to bed early that night. In truth, he could feel the pills starting to kick in, his heart was beating slower, breaths slightly rasping in his lungs. 

Laying down on his bed, Jisung’s stomach rolled. He flipped over onto his back; that was slightly better. It started to rain outside, Jisung could hear the drops pattering against the window pane; however, when Jisung got up to look at the rain, he found that everything was perfectly dry. He was just imagining things. Heading back to bed, Jisung suddenly lost his balance and almost fell. Wow, that was clumsy of him. He shook his head at how goofy he was acting and let his head hi the pillow and he fell into an uneasy sleep, full of weirdly real dreams. In one he was in the dance studio and JYP was telling him everything he was doing wrong, making him repeat the same part over and over again. Jisung could swear that he could feel the sweat running down his body, the exhaustion settling into his limbs. It wasn’t real, but it felt like it. 

At 3:00, Jisung jerked awake. He had to go to the bathroom. However, the instant he stood up, the whole world shifted and he found himself sitting on the floor. Whoah, that was wack. Apparently dizziness was a symptom of beta blockers. 

Painstakingly, Jisung rose to his feet, using the wall and his bed for support. The world wildly spun once more, but he managed to stay on his feet. The trip to the bathroom and back was rough to say the least. Jisung’s legs were shaky and hs balance was absolutely horrible. He couldn’t even walk without help. Hopefully, his dizziness would be gone by morning. He probably looked like he was drunk with the way he was wobbling around, struggling to walk in a straight line. Everyone would definitely notice.

By some miracle, Jisung made it back into his bed without falling again or waking anyone else up. When his head hit the pillow, he could swear his whole bed moved like those spinning teacups at Disneyland.

The next time Jiung opened his eyes, it was morning. He checked his watch. Eight hours had passed since he took the pills. He was still alive.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that I have never said this before at the end of one of my chapters, but if you guys are ever feeling hopeless or lost, please know that I'm here for you. My Instagram is @intricate_6 and you can dm me whenever about whatever. Additionally, if you feel like there is no one who loves you in the world or cares about your death, please know that I do, and other Stays do, and Stray Kids does. You guys are all amazing and I hope you know that!
> 
> Edit: I edited the chapter to make this more clear, but if it's not please let me know: Jisung did take the pills just to feel the side effects, not die, because he was feeling impulsive and it was kinda a self harm thing. It will also be further discussed in the next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

Once Jisung came to terms with the fact that the pills had not killed him--something that both thrilled and disappointed him--he headed out of his room and into the hallway where he encountered Chan. 

“Hey man, you’re finally up. You feeling good?” Chan asked with a smile.

“Uh, yeah,” Jisung laughed nervously. “I’m feeling great. Fine. Just peachy.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. Just know you can talk to me about anything you need to, yeah? You seemed a little off last night.”

“Oh, no. I was perfectly fine last night. Perfectly fine.”

Chan eyed Jisung suspiciously, but didn’t say anything about it, instead telling Jisung to eat breakfast before they headed to the studio. 

Mostly everyone else was gathered in the kitchen, and the sight made Jisung smile. Changbin and Felix were sitting next to each other at the table, Changbin describing something to Felix with wild arm movements and excited eyes, Felix watching eagerly while intermittently eating his cereal. Jeongin and Seungmin were cooking something on the stove, playfully yelling at each other while Woojin hovered nervously, making sure no stray limbs flew onto the hot surface. Everyone looked so happy, they all were having so much fun with one another, and it filled Jisung’s heart with love. 

Suddenly, there was a hand on his shoulder, and Jisung turned around to see Minho standing behind him. “You feeling better?”

A shot of fear coursed through Jisung’s body. What did Minho know? How obvious was he being the night before if both Chan and Minho noticed something was amiss?

Jisung must’ve been quiet for too long, as Minho clarified: “You know, with how you collapsed at dance practice and felt bad for the rest of the day?”

Oh, he wasn’t talking specifically about anything related with the pills, just Jisung’s off mood yesterday. Jisung had honestly forgotten that there was more to the day before than him taking the pills. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m feeling better. I’ll definitely do a lot better at practice today!” Jisung faked excitement in his voice and plastered a smile on his face. Minho stared back at him dubiously, but didn’t say anything. 

Woojin turned around, alerted by the talking that others had entered the kitchen. “Good morning, what do you two want for breakfast?”

“They want the pancakes that we’re making of course!” Jeongin exclaimed, spinning around with a spoon in his hand, flinging batter everywhere and causing Woojin to sigh in defeat.

Minho scrunched up his face at Jeongin’s words, “There’s no way I’m eating those.”

“Well I didn’t want you to anyway,” Seungmin quickly retorted without even looking up from the stovetop where he was busy pouring batter onto the griddle.  

Minho turned around to make a sassy face at Jisung which consisted of him simultaneously rolling his eyes and and screwing his mouth the side. It was such a Minho thing to do that Jisung couldn’t help but crack a smile at the older’s antics. “I’m going to eat cereal, what about you, Jisung?”

“He’ll have pancakes, right?” Jeongin looked at Jisung with his eyes blown wide and as pitiful as possible. There was no way Jisung could say no to that face.

“Yeah, I’ll have pancakes,” Jisung responded, prompting a cheer from Jeongin and a betrayed gasp from Minho who acted as if he had just been shot in the heart. 

“The betrayal. The pain. The heartlessness,” Minho gasped out, falling to his knees clutching his chest.

“Wow,” Hyunjin said as he entered the kitchen and stepped over Minho’s prone form, “He’s in a mood this morning.”.

“Yeah, everyone is,” Woojin muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing Jeongin. I was just saying how much I love you.”

 

The rest of breakfast continued similarly, full of friendly bickering and dramatics. The whole thing made Jisung’s heart swell with love. These eight goofballs were his members, his family, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

However, the whole thing also served to make him feel worse about his actions the night prior. He felt extremely guilty about taking those pills, realized how stupid he was being. Sure, the dosage didn’t kill him, but it still could have. The pills could’ve messed up his heart, landed him in the emergency room. It was a stupid thing to do.

Initially, taking the pills felt right, an easy way to end it all. However, once Jisung realized that he didn’t have enough pills left to secure his death, he knew that he was going to have to be more cautious and not consume every pill left, but leave some as to not seem suspicious. At that point, taking the pills was less of a matter of suicide and more of self harm than anything else. Then, spending time with all of his members made Jisung realize that he couldn’t actually ever kill himself: everyone would be devastated and it just wasn’t fair to the people that he spent the majority of his time with.

Now, Jisung had a secret he had to keep, something weighing heavily on his heart that he couldn’t disclose to the rest of the world. He didn’t want to burden his members, make them worry. Jisung hated it when people looked at him with pitying eyes, tracked his moves to make sure he wouldn’t try anything again. Plus, it was just unfair to put his emotional struggles on anyone else. These were his problems and only  _ his _ problems.

 

\-----------------------------------------

 

After everyone had finished eating breakfast, Chan herded them out the door and to the studio for dance practice. They had a lot of work to do: Jisung’s performance on the Masked Singer was coming up in a couple of days and the day after they were going to be on Weekly Idol. Just the thought of everything he was going to have to do in the next couple of days was enough to make Jisung’s head spin. Or at least it should’ve. With everything that was coming up, Jisung should be freaking out on the inside, working insane hours like Chan was, trying to get everything in. But he wasn’t. Instead of being stressed, Jisung was apathetic, uncaring. He didn’t feel like doing much of anything. He had no sense of urgency, instead having to be dragged everywhere by the other members. Jisung was just drifting through life pretending to care, pretending to be okay.

This practice was no different. Everyone was ultra-focused and serious, while Jisung felt as if he was forcing his body to do the motions, lacking any real emotion. It sure didn’t help that he felt like crap after the pills he had consumed the night prior. Whenever Jisung stood up too quickly, the world spun for a moment. His limbs were heavy, uncoordinated. He just couldn’t seem to move them fast enough. However, if anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything and the practice passed by without too many incidents. 

Then, the manager was driving Jisung and Felix to therapy and there was a not tying itself in Jisung’s stomach and he felt as if he was going to puke.

He couldn’t tell his therapist what he had done last night. One of the cardinal rules of therapy was that you don’t talk about suicide unless you want to end up in a mental hospital. Not that there was anything wrong with mental hospitals, Jisung was sure they were great places, but he just couldn’t afford that right now. People would worry and that’s the last thing Jisung wanted. 

So when Jisung sat down on the couch opposite of Dr. Kim and scratched Gom behind his ear, he pretended like everything was okay. Jisung wasn’t quite sure how to put the fact that he was slowly drowning in his own brain into words without sounding too dramatic, so he didn’t. Instead, he said that things were going great with preparing the new album and he was excited to perform on the Masked Singer. Jisung smiled and stated that he hadn’t even thought about cutting, let alone picked up a blade; no, he was simply too busy for that. Dr. Kim probably knew Jisung was lying straight to her face, but she didn’t say anything and just wished Jisung good luck on his way out the door.

Jisung would be fine, he could figure everything out on his own. As long as he kept busy nothing could get too bad, right? Plus he knew his limits, he would tell someone if it became unbearable. He’d be fine. Perfectly fine.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof guys, I'm sorry that this is so late and so short and such trash lol. School id finally out, but apparently my brain doesn't enjoys summer even less, so you know, I'm just chilling. Anyways you can thank my sister for this update because she kept coming into my room to yell at me to write lol.
> 
> Please tell me what you think of this chapter!! I hope you guys all have great summers!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I said I was done with this fic, but I lied. I realized that I couldn't just leave everything on such a hopeless note and some things have been going on in my life, so I decided to continue it

Jisung had  thought he would be okay, that he could handle his brain on his own, that it wasn’t that bad. He was wrong. Jisung had thought that he could just keep himself busy, keep his brain active, thoughts off of the war that was being waged in his head. Jisung had thought that he would be fine.

But he wasn’t fine. Keeping busy simply wasn’t enough anymore. Even though with their comeback upon them, his demons somehow still managed to worm themselves into his life. Every living moment was filled with voices that told him he was useless, a mess, a disgrace. He was sinking into the dark depths of the ocean and didn’t know how to swim. 

Their days were filled, schedules completely full. Practices, performances, vlives--not to mention their upcoming shows in the U.S. they had to prepare for. Between it all Jisung felt like he barely had any time to stop and breathe; every second of every day was filled with something.

 Normally, this was enough to get Jisung’s brain to chill out for two seconds, but not this time.

The minute he stopped dancing, his brain would start screaming at him, shutting down, the weight of the whole world would descend upon his shoulders. He would sit down, never feel like getting back up. Jisung couldn’t force his body to move, someone would have to haul him to his feet, persuade him to start dancing once again.

So instead of taking breaks where his brain could go for a dive in the deep end, Jisung never let himself rest. During breaks in dance practice, he would go over the choreography in his head and mark the dance while standing in the corner; he ran his voice ragged in vocal practices; and spent every resting second in between jotting down lyrics and composing new songs on his phone. 

Jisung couldn’t take breaks--it was too dangerous. His mind scared him. If he let himself rest for too long the voices would come back, telling him he was better off dead, that no one would care if he was gone, that he should just end it all, cut too deep, swallow too many pills. Those thoughts were scary, evidence of how messed up his brain was. So Jisung didn’t let himself take breaks, he ran himself to the point of collapsing every night just so that he would be too tired to think, too tired for the depression to take over.

Jisung wasn’t going to be another disappointment, he was going to be fine, could power through this. Exhaustion was better than falling prey to his mind and being a liability to his group.

It didn’t seem to matter, though, his depression still seemed to find ways to worm itself into his life. 

When his alarm rang in the morning, his depression was there, a weight on his body preventing him from getting up until Woojin dragged him out of bed. 

When the members were playing around with one another and having fun, his depression was there, forcing him to stand back and watch, constantly reminding him that he wasn’t wanted, wasn’t worthy of their attention.

 When he tried to talk and smile, his depression was there, tugging down on the corners of his mouth, making positive emotion impossible.

 

No one said anything, though. Other than the occasional scolding for being too slow or lazy in the morning, no one commented on Jisung’s change in mood. They probably didn’t even notice. It wasn’t that bad, Jisung was just being dramatic. He just needed to suck it up, stop being so weak, he was the master of his own thoughts, not the other way around. 

 

And some days were worse than others. Jisung remembered one particularly bad day when it took all of his effort just to breathe, let alone do anything else:

Jisung opened his eyes and instantly knew that today was going to suck. His limbs were heavy, filled with lead. His mind was screaming. The weight of the world was upon his shoulders. 

Jeongin on the bed opposite of his was smiling brightly, “Come on, it’s time to go! I heard that Woojin ordered breakfast from that bakery as a special treat. We should hurry up before it gets devoured.”

Jisung ignored Jeongin and just rolled back over in his bed. He didn’t want to eat breakfast, he didn’t want to go to practice, he didn’t even want to be  _ alive _ .

At some point Jeongin left the room, because the next thing Jisung knew, Woojin was sitting at the foot of his bed, gently rubbing his leg. “Jeongin said you didn’t want to get up. You feeling okay?”

“‘M fine,” Jisung mumbled burying his head in his pillow. Why couldn’t he just be left alone? He didn’t want to do this--not today. Everything was too much, his mind was rotting from the inside out. Darkness was overcoming every part of his life and he couldn’t find the light switch, left hopelessly wandering around in the abyss that was his mind.

“Well you don’t have a fever.” Woojin’s hand was on his forehead. “So I’m afraid you’re going to have to go to practice unless something gets worse.”

Jisung didn’t respond, couldn’t force the words out of his mouth.

Strong arms were suddenly wrapping around Jisung’s body, hoisting him out of bed and onto his feet. Woojin was apparently fed up with Jisung’s laziness and he was now getting the Changbin treatment. But then again, Jisung couldn't find it in himself to complain and just leaning farther into Woojin’s comforting touch, craving the feeling of being loved and cared for.

But all too soon, Jisung was being set down on his own two feet and Woojin was walking away, headed towards the kitchen. 

“You okay, Jisung?” Chan asked. Chan who was half asleep while sitting at the table, eyes drooping closed, exhaustion written into his every movement, was asking if Jisung was okay. It just served to make Jisung feel even worse. Here he was being dramatic and moody about nothing while Chan was working his ass off. How pathetic. 

“Don’t worry, I’m just tired.”

“Okay,” Chan muttered, head lolling to the side as sleep began to overcome his exhausted body.

Woojin appeared from the kitchen to shake Chan awake and and a pastry to Jisung before heading over to the couch to haul the ball that was Changbin back to his feet.

“Wait, where is ev’rbody?” Chan slurred, looking as if he was going to fall back asleep any second.

“Already at the studio. We decided to let you guys sleep in since you got back at like 4 am.”

“Wait, no, I gotta work.” Chan struggled to stand up from his chair, tripping over his feet in the process.

“No, you don’t.” Woojin sat Chan back down. “Manager-nim said to let you guys sleep in and that he didn’t want to see you anywhere near the JYP building until 2:00 when we leave for Music Core.”

“It’s like 1:00 right now.” Changbin collapsed back onto the couch and Jisung felt inclined to join him, curling himself around the older, just wanting to go back asleep where his mind would finally shut up.

“No, you don’t” Woojin hauled both rappers back to their feet. “Changbin, go get dressed. Jisung, sit down and eat your breakfast.”

Jisung did as he was told and sat down--Woojin quite honestly scared him. However, when Jisung bit into the light, flaky pastry that was his breakfast, he was not met with the usual explosion of flavor and fruitiness, instead the pastry tasted like ash. Forcing himself to chew and swallow, Jisung almost gagged at the nonexistent taste. He set the pastry down and just stared at it. It was too much, he couldn’t do this. His mind was too screwed up for thinking right now, he couldn't move, couldn’t feel. He was useless, better off dead. That way all the voices inside his head would finally shut up, stop dragging him down, ruining everything. 

“Hey, Jisung? Are you okay? You’re crying.”

Great now he had worried Chan. “I’m fine, my contacts were just dry.”

“Jisung, you just woke up. You don't have your contacts in right now.” Chan was suddenly looking a lot more awake and alert. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Jisung just shrugged in response, tears now freely flowing down his cheeks.

“Oh no, Jisung.” Chan wrapped his strong arms around Jisung’s smaller body, completely enveloping him. Another pair of arms joined soon after, Woojin having come back from forcing Changbin into the shower. 

“Well I mean, you finally woke Chan up,” Woojin commented once their group hug broke apart, prompting a loud bark of laughter from Chan and a slight upward twitch of Jisung’s lips--the best they could hope for at this point. 

 

Woojin and his superhuman abilities somehow managed to get all of 3RACHA showered and ready to go by 1:40.

Chan was finally fully awake and talked animatedly the entire walk over to the JYP building. Changbin was his normal moody self, but his eyes were alert and he chuckled a few times at Chan’s corny jokes. Jisung, on the other hand, was somehow feeling worse. 

Every single step he took was a fight, a struggle. Just putting one foot in front of the other took monumental effort. He had to fight a battle for every inhale, a war just to keep himself moving. More than anything, Jisung wished his brain would just shut up, would just behave, act normal for once. But it didn’t. He was stuck inside the cage of his own mind, sinking further and further into oblivion.

On their way to the studio, Woojin walked with his arm slung around Jisung’s shoulders, pulling the younger boy closer to him, hoping to provide some comfort and peace of mind for the smaller. 

As soon as the small group of four entered the JYP building, they were bombarded by the other members:

“Are you feeling better?”

“How long did you sleep for?”

“I practiced our new choreography today! It actually wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

“Do you know what songs were performing on tour? I forgot again,”

 

Chan started to spit out answers to the many questions left and right, but Jisung found himself too tired and out of it to care. The cacophony of voices was only serving to worsen his mood and further confuse his mind. The fact that he couldn't even understand their questions frustrated Jisung more than he would ever admit. His brain was so pathetic he couldn’t even understand the members speaking in his mother tongue. How useless. A failure.

What was the point of him being in Stray Kids? He was just going to bring everyone down. He had no talent and as of right now he couldn’t even think properly. He should just give up. 

With all of his thoughts swirling around in his head, Jisung climbed into the van and prayed that he’d be able to get his mess of a mind together before they had to perform at Music Core.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I only have 30 minutes of wifi right now, so I apologize for all the spelling and grammatical errors that likely occurred because auto-correct doesn't work without wifi
> 
>  
> 
> Also, if you have a mental illness do you ever wonder what it would be like if your brain would just like work? Like imagine how much stuff you could get done if every second wasn't a fight, if your brain could just focus. It takes so much energy just to do basic things, I wonder what life would be like if I wan't exhausted all the time. Sorry for the rant, but that kinda just hit me hard while writing this. 
> 
> As always comments are greatly appreciated!!


	7. Chapter 7

 

Everyone was happy, excited, running around, chatting animatedly. Everyone but Jisung. Jisung was stuck, drowning inside his own mind while everyone else was having fun.

 Before performing on music shows he was usually up, running around with everyone else, filming with talker. But not today. Today he sat in a corner, tucked away, headphones plugged in, trying to ignore the world, trying to ignore the thoughts in his own head. His mind was screaming at him, demanding attention. It was like a petulant little toddler you just couldn't escape. Maybe if he was lucky he would die and not have to worry about his broken brain anymore. 

“Hey Jisung,” Hyunjin appeared, sitting down right next to him wrapping an arm around Jisung’s shoulder. “Rough day, huh?”

Jisung just leaned further into Hyunjin’s touch. The dancer already knew the answer to his question. 

They stayed like that for a couple more minutes before Jisung began to speak: “I’m drowning, I’m sinking, I can’t feel anything. It’s so bad Hyunjin; it’s been so bad lately and I just can’t. I can’t do it anymore it’s so hard.” he broke down into silent sobs, burying his head in Hyunjin’s shoulder. “I just hate my brain, it’s so stupid. I’m useless, a failure of a human being.”

“Hey, no you’re not.” Hyunjin turned so that he could look Jisung in the eye. “You’re not a failure, you’re not useless. Never say that. Sure, you’re going through a rough patch, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re amazing. You, Jisung, deserve the world.”

Jisung shrugged, “It doesn’t feel like that.”

“Yeah, but one day it will.”

“Will it?” Jisung asked, getting up. It was his turn to get his makeup done. “It sure doesn’t feel like it.”

 

During the performance, Jisung didn’t feel anything. Usually energy ran through his body, and the sound of all the Stays cheering filled him with a giddy exhilaration, but not today. Today, his body just went through the movements. He felt dull, flat. Everything that usually came so naturally: the big movements, facial expressions, tonal changes while he rapped; were almost impossible to replicate. He just couldn’t feel. Couldn’t do anything genuinely. He was sinking, dying, rotting from the inside out. 

After the show everyone high-fived, congratulations and smiles being exchanged. But Jisung couldn’t summon a smile to his face, choosing instead to escape to the bathroom where he let the tears stream out of his eyes. He just couldn’t. It was too hard. He was drowning. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t do it, couldn’t do it. Life was too much. He just wanted everything to end. Craved peace and quiet, craved death.

The door to the bathroom creaked open. Jisung whipped his head up at the noise and frantically wiped at the tears staining his cheeks.

“Jisung, you good?” Minho’s voice. “I mean, you’re obviously not, but what do you need me to do?”

Jisung just buried his head in his hands as a response, hiding his face from Minho’s scrutinising eyes. 

“Jisung,” Minho sounded sad, voice cracking with emotion. “Buddy, why didn’t you say something sooner?” 

Jisung shrugged as Minho’s strong arms wrapped around his smaller frame.

“I’m always here for you. You know that, yeah?” 

Tears began to spill out of Jisung’s eyes, soaking the shoulder of Minho’s shirt. “I’m sorry. I’m such a mess. I’ll try harder.”

“No, you don’t need to try harder, you’re already doing so much, you’re so strong. Please believe that. Man, just ‘cuz you need a little extra help every once in a while doesn’t mean you’re a horrible, useless person. Lots of people need help, don't be ashamed about it.” Minho pulled Jisung closer, tucking the younger’s head into his shoulder. “It’s okay to be weak; I’m here for you, Chan’s here for you, heck, even Seungmin is here for you.”

At this point Jisung was sobbing. All the nice words were just too much. He almost wanted to believe what Minho was saying; however, the voices inside his head stopped him, reminding him that he was useless and undeserving. He would be sad forever without any choice in the matter. That’s just how his life was: pain, agony, and struggle.

“Oh buddy, let’s get you to the van so we can go home, yeah?” Minho started to gently rub his back.

Jisung nodded and Minho walked him out of the bathroom, keeping Jisung’s face buried in his shoulder, whispering small affirmations to him as they walked.

When they reached the van, Minho guided Jisung into the corner seat and sat next to him, mouthing to Chan and Woojin that they would talk later. Right now, his focus was on trying to make Jisung not feel as alone. There was little else he could do when the younger was in such a depressive state; Jisung was too far gone to listen to reason at this point, no amount of reassurances would help--he knew that from experience. 

 

When the van pulled to a stop in front of the dorms, everyone slowly filed out, Jisung and Minho last. 

Jisung’s brain was still the ocean in a storm: tumultuous, rocky, impossible to swim in. He was a dark blue, almost black. The color of the sky as the last vestiges of light were filtering out. He was about to be plunged into darkness without hope. 

As they climbed the flights of stairs, Jisung clung to Minho like a lifeline, desperately trying to stay afloat, but failing. 

He was so focused on the fight inside his own head that he didn’t notice where Minho was leading him until he was being laid down on Hyunjin’s bed and the dancer was wrapping his long limbs around him, telling him to fall asleep. 

Jisung’s brain was so exhausted from the constant struggle that had been happening all day that he easily followed Hyunjin’s instructions and was asleep within seconds.  

 

Minho quietly exited the room he shared with Hyunjin, loathe to leave Jisung alone, but knowing that the conversation he was about to have with Chan and Woojin was vital. The two aforementioned elders were already sitting at the kitchen table, clearly waiting for Minho. 

“So,” Chan started, “I think we have all noticed how Jisung has been acting these past weeks.”

Woojin and Minho nodded in agreement. They were all worried. Jisung’s mental health seemed to be rapidly declining.

“We need to tell the manager.” Minho said, “and not take ‘no’ for an answer. He needs help.”

“It hurts to see him this way, and he’ll never admit it, but this is serious.” 

Chan nodded in agreement, “I’ll text him right now.” A few seconds later, his phone was ringing.

 After talking to the manager for several minutes, Chan set down the phone. “He’ll set up an appointment with a psychiatrist as soon as possible. Tomorrow, Jisung is going to see his therapist.”

Woojin sighed in relief, “I hope this helps.”

“Yeah,” Minoh agreed. It hurt to see Jisung suffering, fighting with his own brain. The sooner they could figure out what was going on and how to help, the better.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but I wanted to at least post something. I really hope that I can get back on an updating schedule soon, but things kinda suck in my mind right now lol


	8. Chapter 8

“Hey, Jisung, it’s time to get up.”

Jisung groaned at Woojin’s words and rolled over to look at the time on his phone. “It’s only 9:00? I thought we didn’t have to be anywhere until noon?”

“Yeah, but you have a session with your therapist at 9:30.” 

“Wait, what?” Jisung shook his head in confusion, “I don’t have an appointment until next week.”

“The manager booked one for you last night.”

A look of betrayal came over Jisung’s face, “Who told? Minho? Changbin? Because last night was a special case, I am  _ fine _ .”

“It was all of us Jisung. We can all tell that you haven’t been feeling the best lately, last night was just a continuation of worrying trends in your behavior. We just want you to feel better, okay? Can you try and do that for us?”

Jisung looked up at Woojin with tears in his eyes, “It’s so hard,” he managed to choke out.

Woojin reached out to wrap Jisung in a giant bear hug and began to gently stroke the younger’s hair, “I know buddy, I know. But this’ll help, we’ll figure out what is going on with your brain and make you feel better, yeah?”

Jisung nodded into Woojin’s chest, tears still leaking out of his eyes. 

“Here, let's go eat breakfast. Jeongin is already up so I made pancakes.”

“Of course he is,” Jisung rolled his eyes, “I swear Jeongin is unnatural. I mean who can actually go to bed at like midnight and then be up at 8 am? It’s not human.”

Woojin rolled his eyes, “You know some of us actually get a decent amount of sleep so we don’t crash every time our head hits a pillow?”

“That’s lame,” Jisung muttered, rolling out of bed. His eyes were only half open and his movements uncoordinated, bumping into the doorframe on the way to the kitchen, eliciting a laugh out of Jeongin.

“Do you want to fight? Because I’m ready to go.” Jisung shot his most threatening glare at the youngest member, but it apparently was not enough to strike fear in Jeongin’s heart because he just laughed again. 

Jisung just decided to give up and slumped down in a seat at the kitchen table. “You will regret that later,” he muttered half to himself as he dug into the pancakes set in front of him. 

Fifteen minutes, a shower, and a fresh pair of clothes later Jisung was ready to go, climbing into the car next to their manager who sent him a sympathetic look. “I know you don’t like this, but I promise it’s for the best.”

“Sure,” Jisung said slumping further down into his seat and plugging in his headphones. The name of the game today was to try to get this over with as quickly and painlessly as possible. He was fine, would be fine. It was all perfectly  _ fine _ . 

However, as they pulled up to the building that housed his therapist, Jisung began to fidget, twisting his hands together, bobbing his leg up and down rapidly. A weight settled in his stomach. He wasn’t anxious, just...a little apprehensive, that’s all. Jisung simply didn’t like being up this early unplanned. It was the lack of sleep getting to him, just the lack of sleep. That was all. 

But, the excuses that Jisung made up for himself didn’t stop the manager from giving him pitying glances as they signed in and Jisung headed back to see Dr. Kim. At least when he walked through the door, Gom’s small yips greeted him. Jisung reached down to scratch the small dog’s ears and then settled into the couch opposite Dr. Kims chair.

“So, Jisung how have you been feeling?”

Jisung looked down at his lap, fiddling with the hem of his shirt, his leg going a mile a minute. “I guess not the best.” There, he had said it. It was out in the open. Things were going to shit and he had admitted it. However the admission was in no way cathartic, instead in just served to further Jisung’s anxiety, his leg bobbing up and down even faster as his fingers twisted together, in constant movement.

“Care to elaborate on that?” Dr. Kim asked, face not moving from it’s schooled calmness.

“I dunno, I guess like I’ve just been feeling sad and anxious lately and stuff like whatever.” Jisung’s chest seized up at his words. It was the truth, but Jisung hated, absolutely hated putting his feelings out there where they could be analyzed and used against him. What if Dr. Kim said he couldn’t dance anymore, couldn’t perform, couldn’t be an idol? It was his worst nightmare: being benched because of mental health. Maybe lately it was getting harder and harder for Jisung to complete his duties as an idol, had to sit several dance practices out, but he didn’t want a break forced upon him. He could power through this, figure things out on his own. He was going to be fine. 

Jisung was so deep in thought that he missed Dr. Kim’s next question. “Could you please repeat that again?” he asked.

“Of course, could you please explain in more detail what you mean by feeling sad? Is it like depression? Is it affecting your daily life?”

“I mean, yeah, I guess. I’ve like had to sit out practice and last night’s performance was a struggle to get through mentally speaking. I guess I’ve just like had less interest in life in general, been sleeping more and whatnot.”

As Jisung’s anxiety somehow managed to spike even more, Gom started running around and licking at his ankles. Jisung gently threw his ball and Gom came running back with it in his mouth, sticking close to Jisung’s side.

Dr. Kim let out a small laugh. “He senses what you’re feeling. Dogs are smart like that. But he only really does that with you, I think you’re his favorite.”

Jisung let out a small smile, “He’s my favorite too.”

 

Several more feeling questions, a mindfulness exercise, and 45 minutes later, the appointment was over and Jisung was feeling marginally more calm than when he first came in until Dr. Kim called the manager in to talk to him. Apparently Jisung need to go to a psychiatrist to get him some new meds or whatever; to be honest Jisung stopped paying attention the minute he heard psychiatrist, his mind recoiling at the thought of having to go to a shrink. He really didn’t think that his brain was  _ that _ screwed up. And his meds were fine, they were working just fine, this was simply just a rough patch.

Then, the manager revealed that he had already contemplated bringing Jisung to a psychiatrist, but had wanted Dr. Kim’s opinion first. Jisung’s mind was sent reeling at the admission. Even the manager thought things were that bad? What on Earth had prompted that? What had he done? Jisung didn't think he’d had that many breakdowns--at least not in front of anyone. No one even knew about the pills. 

While Jisung was lost deep in thought, an appointment for the following day was booked with a psychiatrist named Dr. Jung. He apparently specialized in teens with depression--something Jisung now apparently was: depressed. 

 

After the appointment with Dr. Kim, Jisung was dropped off at the JYP building and instantly ushered in to where everyone was gathered, getting their hair and makeup done for a variety show they were filming that day. Jisung was too swept up in the preparations and then the actual show itself to further contemplate the events of the morning or think about the fact that he had to go to the psychiatrist tomorrow. 

In fact, Jisung didn’t even have a moment to breathe until later that night when they finally were dropped back off at the dorm, but even then, none of the members even mentioned where Jisung had gone that morning or what was happening tomorrow. Instead, they ate takeout for dinner and watched a movie where Jisung finally got his revenge on Jeongin in the form of hugging him and playing with his hair for the entirety of the film.

Despite his crazy day, Jisung found himself lying awake that night, unable to fall asleep, too busy thinking about what was going to happen the next morning. Was Dr. Jung going to call him crazy? Send him to a mental hospital? Drug him up so that he couldn’t even function? Was he going to have to leave Stray Kids? Take a break from promotions? 

His thoughts continued to endlessly spiral until he fell into an uneasy sleep only to be woken up way too soon by the blaring of his alarm clock. It was time to go to the psychiatrist. 

 

The waiting room was small, Jisung and his manager being the only two people in it other than the receptionist. But, then again, Dr. Jung had opened early to fit Jisung in. Idols must be given priority or something, that or Dr. Kim pulled some strings. Either way, Jisung was not especially happy to be here. Maybe his discontent was what kept Jisung’s stomach relatively calm and his fingers from tying knots in his shirt; his leg was still moving up and down at a mile a minute, but not everything could be perfect he supposed. 

Before Jisung could overthink his actions too much, his name was being called by a middle aged man standing in the doorway who introduced himself as Dr. Jung.

The first thing Jisung noticed when he walked into Dr. Jung’s office was how bright it was. The walls were painted white and natural light streamed in through the large windows. 

The second thing Jisung noticed were the tissues on the couch. Did people really cry in here that often? What did Dr. Jung say? Was Jisung going to cry? He hated crying. It always made his face bloated and eyes red, not to mention the level of emotional vulnerability that accompanied the action.

Finally, after starting the tissues down for a good 30 seconds, Jisung sat down on the couch, folding one leg underneath him so that it wouldn’t shake as much. Dr. Jung started out with the normal questions: What was going on? How had he been feeling? In what ways did these emotions showcase themselves and so on. However, Dr. Jung somehow managed to keep the atmosphere comfortable and Jisung didn’t feel bad answering his questions truthfully--well except for the one about suicide attempts, there were just somethings that Jisung was never going to share with anyone. 

After a while of asking questions, Dr. Jung pursed his lips and looked up from his notepad. “Okay so, you’re taking Prozac right now which the doctor prescribed, correct?”

Jisung nodded in affirmation.

Dr. Jung sighed. “I want to get you off of it. I don’t usually prescribe Prozac to teens and people in their early 20’s because a very common side effect is depression. In fact, most SSRI’s have this as a fairly common side effect. My plan is to wean you off the Prozac over the course of a month and then check in and see how you’re feeling, if the depression has gotten any better. If not, I’ll prescribe you some other medicine to help with that, alright?”

Jisung slowly nodded, life was going to suck without the Prozac there to help with his anxiety. Really, really suck.

Dr. Jung noticed the apprehension on Jisung face and shot him a soothing smile, “I know that life is going to suck while we get you off the Prozac, but just remember your support system. You have your manager, Dr. Kim, your members. You are equipped with all of the tools to get you through this and I believe in you, yeah?”

“Sure, I guess. As long as I’ll feel better in the long run.”

“You will. We just have to get your meds figured out, then hopefully you will be able to enjoy life without your brain getting in the way.”

 

Jisung left Dr. Jung’s office feeling both apprehensive and hopeful. He really liked 

Dr. Jung and trusted that his plan was going to make him feel better in the long run, especially with how he had explained his reasoning for everything. However, Jisung was scared for how the next month was going to play out. The last time he wasn’t on meds he made himself actually physically sick from anxiety, not to mention the panic attacks that had come every other day. Jisung could only just hope that things would be quickly figured out and that he could start feeling better soon.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any words in Spanish or otherwise just really out of place. Istg Google Docs actually hates me. Like any cognate was randomly switched to Spanish even though I doubled checked and my computer was in English? And then it kept correcting really weird things, like grabbed was corrected to groped?? Even after I retyped it to make sure it was spelled correctly?? And I have definitely never used the word groped while writing my fics??? Basically, my computer just has a vendetta against me.
> 
> But anyways, I hope you really enjoyed this chapter and please leave comments telling me what you thought of it!!


	9. Chapter 9

Jisung was dying on the inside. He felt empty, a gaping hole, he had no substance to him. It was 7 in the morning, he had to be out the door in 20 minutes for practice. Assumedly, everyone else was already awake and probably eating breakfast. At least Jeongin was, his bed empty, sheets made, pulled clumsily over the bed.

Jisung needed to get up. He needed to eat breakfast, get dressed, wash his face, but the prospect was too daunting. He didn’t want to move. It took too much effort to think about getting up, let alone actually force his limbs to complete the action. His arms were glued in place, stuck beside him, attached to the bed. His legs were 100 pound weights, impossible to move. 

But he needed to get up. Why couldn't he get up?It was such a simple action, a swing of the legs, shifting of the weight, extension of his muscles. It was nothing compared to the physical effort required by dancing, but Jisung simply could not move. His tupd idiot brain refused to work. 

It was only after much contemplation and 5 minutes that Jisung managed to sit up. That simple move exhausted him and his body refused to move any further, his muscles seizing up. He couldn't force his legs to move another inch. At that moment, his thoughts decided to chime in with the ever so helpful thought spiral that accompanied any sort of mental weakness Jisung displayed:

_ Wow, look at you. You’re so useless you can’t even get out of bed in the morning. It’s as if you don’t even try you lazy dumbass. If you were a real man you’d be able to get your ass out this door. I can’t believe you’re letting a little bit of depression dictate your life, but I guess that’s all someone like you knows how to do: be weak. I mean, just look at yourself; you’re worthless, no good, a failure, a mistake. You never should have been on Stray Kids. Chan made a mistake in choosing you, all you do is let him down. Between your depression and anxiety you can’t even function, what type of idol are you? _

Jisung didn’t even realize he was crying until the first sob wracked his chest, starting a torrent of tears and sobs and hiccups that refused to stop, only continuing to increase in intensity until Jisung could hardly breathe. Jisung desperately tried to suck in air through his spasming throat and snot filled nose to no avail, flopping back down to his mattress and curling up in a ball under the covers, clutching a pillow to his chest, trying to ease the ache that filled his bones. 

Jisung was back where he started and this only served to further discourage him. He was such a failure, couldn’t even control his emotions. It was pathetic. He was pathetic.He had failed at such a simple action, couldn’t even get out of bed in the morning. 

His uselessness was only affirmed when Seungmin entered the room, clearly annoyed. “Jisung, c’mon, let’s go. We have to leave in 5 minutes and you haven’t even come out of your room. You know we have stuff to do--” Seungmin’s berating words suddenly stopped when his eyes fell on Jisung curled up in a ball on the bed, whole body shaking with how hard he was crying.

Jisung didn’t see the look on Seungmin’s face, the regret and compassion in his eyes, only heard his harsh words. He really was good for nothing and everyone was noticing it. The rest of his members were disappointed with him. He had failed them. That’s all he could do lately--be a failure.

Slowly, Jisung descended deeper into the depths of his psych, his demons taking over, shutting out the real world so that he didn’t even notice that Seungmin had crossed the room, carefully approaching Jisung’s bed.

“Uh, are you okay dude?” Seungmin was by Jisung’s side, not knowing what the rapper needed in this moment, not knowing what he should say, what he should do. He rarely saw Jisung like this, the rapper usually so upbeat and happy. Sure, he knew about Jisung’s depression and anxiety, had obviously been around him for panic attacks and bad days, but Seungmin had never seen it get this bad. 

 Everyone else was so much better at dealing with Jisung when he was like this, knew how to calm him down, get Jisung back to reality. Seungmin, on the other hand, would just fumble around like a giant oaf and somehow managed to make things worse. He should text the others, get them to take over, take charge of the situation in a way Seungmin didn’t know how to.

Fumbling in his pocket for his phone, Seungmin managed to finally pull the device out and shoot a quick text to the group chat requesting help with the Jisung situation. Once that was taken care of, Seungmin carefully sat down on the edge of Jisung’s bed. “So, um, do you want to like talk or something? Or I can just talk?”

Jisung showed no sign of moving, just stayed face down in his pillows, body shaking with the force of his silent sobs, every once in a while a choked sound escaping his lips. 

“Okay,” Seungmin muttered to himself shifting his weight awkwardly on the bed. What would Chan do? Was it better to embrace Jisung or leave him alone?

Luckily, at that moment Hyunjin entered the room, cursing softly when he saw the state Jisung was in. “Text Chan that I’m going to need backup,” Hyunjin said as he clambered onto the bed next to Jisung, rubbing his back gently. 

“Hey buddy, can you come back to us?” Hyunjin’s voice was low and calming, but Jisung didn’t move.

“Just leave me alone.” Jisung’s muffled voice rose from where he was laying, head buried in the covers. He didn’t want to get up, didn’t want the others to see him like this, didn’t want to have to do anything. Why couldn’t they just leave him alone? Couldn’t they see that he  wasn’t in the mood to move? He was just a burden for everyone, it was best for them to just leave. Then, Jisung wouldn’t disappoint his members, wouldn’t have to see the pity in their eyes.  

While Jisung was in the midst of his internal struggle, Chan and Woojin entered the room, wincing when they saw the state Jisung was in. Woojin rushed to Jisung’s side, muttering comforting words, hand resting gently on his shoulder. 

Chan, on the other hand, gave Seungmin a soft smile, “Thanks for your help. You did great, but I want to send as many people as possible to start practice and we’ll join you later. I don’t want to overwhelm Jisung or make him feel like he was holding everyone back. Plus, I kinda want to keep management off my back as much as possible.”

Seungmin let out a small smile at Chan’s words. Maybe with half of them in the practice room it would be enough to prevent the scolding they would get if everyone was late. “I’ll go get the others,”

“Thank you Seungmin, you’re amazing, a true life saver.”

Seungmin nodded and left the room, happy to at least be a help in some way.

With that order of business taken care of, Chan turned towards the bed where Jisung was still curled up tightly despite Hyunjin’s and Woojin’s best efforts to get through to him. A pang of sadness shot through his heart at the sight of Jisung being so overwhelmed by his brain, unable to even let them in, let them help him. 

Chan approached Jisung’s bed and squeezed himself next to Woojin and Hyunjin, slightly surprised that they had managed to fit four people on the twin sized bed. 

“Go away.” Chan was mildly surprised that Jisung snapped at them from where he was curled up, voice rough from crying.

“Hey, we’re here for you, okay? We’re not going to leave you here alone.” Chan scooped Jisung up in his arms, the younger letting out a fresh wave of tears and leaning into Chan’s embrace which Hyunjin and Woojin soon joined, whispering soft affirmations into Jisung’s ears. 

“I’m sorry,” Jisung muttered after a while, “I’m so sorry, I’m such a burden.”

“Hey, hey, no, don’t say that,” Woojin said making eye contact with Jisung as he spoke, “We love you and you could never be a burden to us. Saying that is just ridiculous.”

Jisung didn’t respond, but his sobs did begin to quiet and then cease all together.

A few minutes later Chan spoke. “Jisung, buddy, I know this sucks, but we gotta go to practice, management’s not giving us a pass for this one.”

Jisung slowly nodded and clambered to his feet, still clutching onto Hyunjin like a lifeline. He knew this moment was going to come, knew that he was going to have to man up eventually and get stuff done, but it didn’t hurt any less. 

After his break down, Jisung’s legs felt like jelly, whole body beginning to float away from him. There was still an empty hole in his chest, a weight pushing down on his body, tears pricing the corners of his eyes despite all the crying he had done earlier. Jisung still couldn’t move, just wanted to lay in his bed forever, never come out, but he knew he couldn’t. Instead, Hyunjin was holding his hand, leading Jisung towards the door. 

Jisung just stared at his shoes. He had to put them on. Moving took too much effort. Jisung let his body thump onto the ground and just stared at the sneakers in front of him. He would reach for them eventually, slide them onto his feet at a later time. But for now, sitting here and just thinking about it was enough. 

Apparently Hyunjin disagreed with Jisung’s philosophy because the dancer grabbed Jisung’s shoes for him and shoved them onto his feet. Chan then appeared with a mask and ball cap, followed by Woojin with a breakfast bar. Jisung was hauled to his feet, then led out the door.

The walk to the JYP building was torturous. Jisung dragged his feet, slowly shuffling along, leaning heavily on Woojin and Hyunjin for support. He really didn’t want to move. Jisung just wanted to sleep forever. Taking all of those pills a couple weeks ago really was quite the mood. It was too hard to keep living, too hard to plaster a smile on his face, too hard to try. He was just so  _ tired _ . Tired of dealing with his anxiety, his panic attacks, his depression, just his whole mental state in general. 

Why did he have to be the one who pulled the short end of the stick when god was dealing out sanity? 

 

When they finally arrived at the JYP building, the walk taking twice as long as usual due to Jisung’s shuffling feet and unwillingness to move, Chan quickly guided everyone to the practice room that the rest of Stray Kids was in, trying his best to avoid management and other people who would notice that they were out of place, not practicing like they ought to be.

Once Chan opened the door and they all slipped in, Chan exhaling a sigh of relief that  they didn’t get caught, Jisung was bombarded with the rest of him members, asking him questions, making sure that he was all right. Now, usually Jisung welcomed the attention, basked in his members love, but today it just felt like too much. Everyone was talking to him, looking at him expectantly, waiting for answers, for him to speak, for him to react in some way like he usually did.

However, Jisung just shrunk into himself, into his own mind, unable to make his lips move. Luckily, Hyunjin noticed Jisung’s distress and butted in, guiding everyone else away, saying that they should all resume their practice, his words reaffirmed by Chan’s next words: “Okay guys, let’s run through some of our older songs to prepare for our tour, then we’ll practice Miroh.”

Everyone nodded and gathered in the center of the room as District 9 began to play. 

Jisung, however, suddenly had a newfound hatred for the song. It was too fast, the dance moves too overwhelming, everything was too much and he couldn’t do any of it. The whole world was still floating around weirdly and Jisung simply could not force his limbs to move as fast as the song required. So, Jisung just marked the song, movements slow and small, he stumbled from position to position, mind barely even remembering where he was supposed to go. 

Once the song ended, no one commented on Jisung’s failure of a dance, Chan and Minho critiquing the other members, but not him. They ran District 9 again. And then Hellavator. And My Pace. And I am YOU. 

Jisung’s legs were jelly. He could no longer force them to move. His mind was somewhere high in the clouds and his body wasn’t connected to his brain. The whole world just kinda spun around him as he “danced”. To be honest, Jisung wasn’t even quite sure if his legs were even working, if his arms were moving. His body was numb.

“Hey Jisung, how are you doing?” Jisung heard Woojin’s voice as if he was speaking from far away, in a different world. “How about you sit this one out?” 

Jisung let himself be led to the seat in the back of the room, guided by Woojin’s steady hand on his shoulder, helping Jisung to ground himself to earth. Then, the hand was gone and Jisung was left alone with his brain. He faintly heard Miroh being started up before he totally lost inside of his head.

It was so nice not to have to worry about anything going on in the real world. Deep inside of Jisung’s head was much better, much more peaceful. Anything could happen here, he could just float along and not have to think about anything. It was beautiful. A must needed break from everything. 

A small part of Jisung knew that this headspace wasn’t good, that he was hardcore dissociating, but an even larger part didn’t care. It was so much better being worry free, not having to think, to simply just be lost inside his own head. It was as if he was a helium-filled balloon and someone had untied him from the weight that was keeping him tied to the ground. He was now free to go wherever the wind took him, float as high as he could. 

However, the peacefulness couldn’t last forever, and Jisung was brought back to his body by Hyunjin gently shaking his shoulder, “Hey Jisung, the manager is going to be here in two minutes, you gotta get up so that we can perform Miroh.”

Jisung just stared blankly at Hyunjin. The dancer really had nice skin, flawlessly smooth. Jisung reached up a hand to stroke Hyunjin’s cheek, testing out for himself how soft it was.

Hyunjin just sighed--they weren’t going to get anywhere anytime soon. “Chan, this isn’t going to work, he’s way too far gone.”

Chan sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I know, but we have to try. We’re still promoting and are going on tour soon. The manager is going to pull him if he misses another practice. Can you just keep trying?”

Hyunjin nodded and turned back to Jisung, this was going to be difficult. “Hey, buddy, can you stand up for me? You gotta dance. Just one song. Then you can go back to...wherever you are.”

Jisung just kept staring blankly at the wall, tracing the pattern with his finger, the texture feeling nice against his skin. He heard Hyunjin, distantly, but getting back to reality was just too much work, way too much effort. He’d rather not. 

Suddenly, Seungmin stood next to Hyunjin. “This is definitely not the way to go about this, but desperate times call for desperate measures.” and before anyone could protest, Seungmin threw the contents of his water bottle in Jisung’s face.

That definitely served to wake Jisung up. The water was freezing and Jisung was jerked back to reality sputtering and blinking rapidly to get the water out of his eyes. There was still a dazed look in his eyes, but he was now at least looking around the room as if he was actually seeing its features, registering the way that Jeongin and Minho were doubled over with laughter while Chan and Woojin looked absolutely horrified. However, before Seungmin could get scolded, the door creaked open and heir manager walked in.

It was time to see how much the water actually woke Jisung up. There was a lot on the line right now and Chan was worried that Jisung wasn’t going to be able to perform for the rest of their Miroh promotions. He just hoped that Jisung could pull it together for 3 minutes and 28 seconds.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have to get up early tomorrow, but I decided to write the last part of this chapter instead of sleeping lol. Also, I have a Calc III test tomorrow, so wish me luck bc that class is h a r d, like how do you find normal vectors? I haven't the slightest clue. But anyway, please leave comments either on this chapter or your math and school struggles. (read: I am lonely)


	10. Chapter 10

The music started up, the normally piercing police sirens sounding muddled and murky  in Jisung’s head. It took more effort than Jisung cared to spend to actually get his ears working--or any part of his body for that matter.

 Despite the water Seungmin had doused him in Jisung still didn’t feel connected to his body. He was watching everything play out from above as if he was watching the movie of his life, a passive viewer. 

The manager was in the room, watching them dance, determining if Jisung was going to be performing at their next show, but Jisung didn’t care. It would normally be a high stress moment, Chan was certainly out of his mind with worry, but Jisung couldn't muster up enough emotion to actually feel nervous. He just wanted to curl up underneath a blanket and relax into the fuzzy space his mind had created.  

 

Chan was carefully watching Jisung in the mirror as the song started up, wincing when Jisung was half a beat behind as Felix’s low rap started, movements not nearly as sharp as they should have been. At least it was just the beginning of the song, maybe Jisung was just warming up.

 However, when Jisung’s following stomps were half-hearted and light, Chan realized that the younger rapper was screwed. One look at Jisung’s face as they snapped into a standing position, just confirmed his fears. Jisung’s face was lax, where it was normally fierce, his eyes unfocused. There was nothing about his expression that reflected the power of the song, nothing that resembled his normal intensity. Jisung was not himself. 

 

Minho flinched as Jisung was slightly late to move once again. They were thirty seconds into the song and he hadn’t hit a single beat right on. Now, that wouldn’t be a problem if they had just gotten the song, had only been practicing for a week or two. But, this song wasn’t new to them, they were in their second week of promoting, Miroh was muscle memory by now. Or at least it would be if Jisung was actually present in the moment, if his brain was cooperating. But it wasn’t and Jisung had just missed the timing once again.

Minho could already feel that this was going to be a disaster.

 

Woojin watched Jisung with a wary eye, ready to catch him if anything went wrong. Under normal circumstances Jisung wouldn’t be performing right now. It was dangerous. Normally, Jisung would go to one of the studios to write or back to the dorm to just chill out when he felt this bad, when his mind was so far gone. 

But, this was a special case, Jisung had been absent from practice too much recently, there was too much on the line right now. Everyone knew that there was only so much you could skip due to mental health before you were pulled from activities. And Jisung was at that point. 

 

Jisung made it a minute into the song--up into his and Changbin’s rap part, before the manager was stopping the music and calling them over. 

Hyunjin felt his heart sink, this was it. Jisung wasn’t going to be promoting with them tomorrow. He definitely needed the rest, needed the break, needed to improve his mental state, but Jisung was going to be pissed. Well, maybe not right now with how bad he was dissociating, but he was definitely going to lock himself in his room later today or tomorrow with his lyric book and computer and stay up way too late, push himself too hard in an effort to prove his worth. Jisung hated feeling useless and this was going to do just that. 

 

The manager had a grim look on his face as he started talking, “Jisung and Chan, can I talk to you for a second?”

The two of them headed over to the corner of the room, Jisung lead by Chan’s hand on his back. The others went back to rehearsing individually, but all strained to hear the conversation that was happening on the other side of the room.

“Jisung how are you feeling?” Their manager’s lips were pursed, clearly worried.

“Fine.” Talking took too much effort, Jisung just wanted to be left alone right now where he could let himself feel whatever he wanted. 

At Jisung’s answer, their manager let out a heavy sigh, “Really? Because you haven't been acting like yourself lately. I know that the psychiatrist has a plan to help you out with everything you’ve been feeling lately, but I also know that it’s going to take some time for you to feel better. Your members have all expressed their worries about you to me and you’ve missed several practices lately due to mental health. Taking all of this into account, I think that it would be most beneficial for your mental state if you took a short break. What do you think Chan?” 

Chan sighed knowing that Jisung was going to yell at him later for the betrayal he was about to commit: “I agree. Quite honestly Jisung has really been worrying me lately and I think it would be best if he took a small break until his mind stopped being such a pain.” Chan turned to face Jisung, speaking softly, “You okay with that?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jisung just kinda wanted to be left alone. He didn’t really care if he took a break or not, he just wished that he could stop having to talk and could just go back to his bed. It was a lot of work to interact with people right now and sleep sounded amazing.

Both Chan and the manager sighed at the same time at Jisung’s apparent apathy. They were just going to have to deal with his outrage at a later time. Right now, it was best that Jisung just go back to the dorm so he could get into a better state of mind. One that wasn’t so...floaty. 

“I’ll arrange for him to be driven back to the dorms by one of the staff. They’ll make sure that he makes it inside.”

“Thanks,” Chan ran a hand through his bleached hair. It physically pained him to see one of his members so clearly hurting in such a way. 

“Hey,” the manger laid a hand on Chan’s shoulder, “Jisung will be okay. You guys already support him and love him so much, all he needs at the moment is some time to sort out his emotions and get the meds out of his system. It’ll be okay. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“Yeah, but I just wish there was more I could do.”

“Believe me, we all do."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here have this *dumps 1k of trash that was written in an hour at your feet*
> 
> But seriously guys, I'm so sorry that I literally am failing at updating for some reason and I can't figure out why. I literally updated Drowning once a week without fail (well except for once) and I was taking 5 AP's and had a crazy schedule. But this year I have basically nothing going on in comparison, but I'm failing at writing. Big oof.


	11. Chapter 11

Woojin made everyone head back to the dorms together and not a single person argued--not even Chan. Jisung was most likely not going to be in the best place mentally and everyone being there was going to be the best way to support him. 

When they walked through the door everyone was uncharacteristically quiet, worried about how Jisung was going to react to being benched for their next performance. But Jisung wasn’t waiting for them by the door, ready to give them a piece of his mind. In fact, now that Woojin thought about it, Jisung hadn’t texted any of them throughout the day, the normally talkative rapper silent. 

Woojin and Chan headed into Jisung and Jeongin’s shared room while the others were left to argue over what to order for dinner.

“Do you think he’s still going to be dissociating?” Woojin asked.

Chan shrugged in response, “I doubt it, but I’m not entirely sure. I mean he’s never dissociated for this long before, but then again, he’s never been this depressed before.”

Woojin sighed in response as they reached the door. This was new territory for them, they knew how to deal with panic attacks and anxiety, but this was a whole new beast. 

Chan pushed the door open and revealed Jisung sitting on his bed, headphones on, furiously scribbling words in a notebook. He looked up when the door opened and smiled when his gaze fell on Chan and Woojin. “Oh hey guys. I’m surprised you’re back so early, Chan usually stays until at least 2 am. I’m just working on some lyrics here, but since you guys are all back I might as well join you on the couch.” Jisung unplugged his headphones and flipped his notebook closed before jumping off of his bed and walking past a stunned Chan and Woojin. 

“Uh, he does know that he’s not going to be performing tomorrow, right?”

“I mean he should? I don’t think he would forget that?”

They shot each other confused looks before walking back into the living room where the volume level had significantly increased since Jisung’s addition. 

Apparenlty all the noise was coming from the fact that Changbin and Jisung had taken it upon themselves to torture the maknae line and Minho with physical affection. Jisung was sprawled across Minho’s lap while tickling Jeongin, while Changbin had somehow managed to wrap himself around Felix and Seungmin, the latter protesting loudly. Hyunjin was on the side, ocassionly adding to Jeongin’s and Seungmin’s torture, but mostly looking very confused. When Chan and Woojin walked in, he met their gaze and mouthed “Is he okay?”

“I’m not sure,” Woojin replied at the same time that Chan shrugged. 

Hyunjin nodded and went back to his tickle fight. 

“Please tell me you guys at least ordered food before deciding to have a play fight.”

Everyone froze for a second.

“Uh, we ordered pizza,” Jeongin finally spoke, sounding more as if he was asking a question than making a statement.

“Yes, a pizza. We ordered a pizza, well three pizzas. Two pepperoni and one cheese,” Changbin announced while Minho frantically typed away on his phone. 

Jisung then pounced on Hyunjin and it was back to chaos. A chaos that Woojin and Chan couldn’t help but join.

 

Later, they found themselves all sitting on the couch eating the pizzas while Jisung dramatically retold a story from when he lived in Malaysia and everyone was still confused on what had warranted Jisung’s dramatic mood change. Just earlier that morning they couldn’t get him out of bed, but now he was chatting away like nothing had happened. It was baffling. 

Finally, Minho decided to break the bubble of security that had seemed to settle over them, and addressed the elephant in the room. “Jisung, what’s up with you?”

Jisung paused mid sentence and looked over at Minho, confused, “Huh?”

“I mean why are you acting like this, a couple of hours ago you could barely even dance or get out of bed and now you’re a social butterfly. What’s up with you? You do know that you’re not performing tomorrow, right?”

“I mean, I actually wanted to talk about that…”

“No,” Chan said.

“But, that was only this morning and tomorrow I’ll be fine and-”

“No,” Chan repeated himself, “you’re not performing. Jisung, you need to admit to yourself that something’s wrong and you need to focus on getting better--actually better, not this fake show you’re putting on.”

“But I want to perform and I’ll be fine,” Jisung whined, putting the full force of his puppy eyes on Chan.

“It’s still a no. You’re out of promotions until your therapist gives you the clear. It’s not good for you to be pushing yourself to this point, Jisung we don’t want to let this get any worse. It’s already affected plenty of your practices.”

“But I want to perform.” Jisung burst into tears, “I can do it, I really can. I just have to get better at controlling my stupid brain, it won’t coorperate right now and I hate it. I just want to promote with you guys.” By the time Jisung finished talking, tears were streaming freely down his face as the reality of his situation overcame him. He just wanted to be able to keep up with the others, but his brain was ruining everything and he hated it. It just wasn’t fair.

“Oh, Jisung, it’s okay. We’ll be here for everything. We support you no matter what, you always have us.” Hyunjin wrapped Jisung into his arms, everyone else following, creating a big group hug around the crying rapper, whispering affirmations the whole time. 

“Jisung we’re not going anywhere without you.”

“You can talk to us about anything.”

“You’re my brother, I’m not leaving you.”

“You’ll join us the minute you get better, just like any illness.”

“We’ll support you through anything. No matter what.”

Soon tears were leaking out of everyone’s eyes as Jisung stayed curled into Hyunjin and Minho, soaking their shirts with his heartbreaking sobs. Woojin gently rubbed his back, wishing that there was something he could do to take away the younger’s pain. It hurt so much so see someone so strong and bold be so broken and sad. 

Chan sat curled into Woojin’s side, hand laying on Jisung’s shoulder, tears freely streaming down his face. It was his words that caused Jisung to be like this. It was his and the manager’s decision that had hurt Jisung so much in this way. More than anything, Chan wished that he could just take it back, let Jisung perform, but that would be the irresponsible thing to do. Jisung needed to get better and this was the way to do it, no matter how much it hurt. It was the right thing to do. 

Or at least that’s what Chan kept telling himself as he watched Jisung break down.

 

Eventually, Jisung exhausted himself and fell asleep, face buried in Hyunjin’s shoulder while simultaneously sprawled across Minho. Everyone dried their tears and slowly stood up, starting to clean up the leftover pizza and plates while Minho and Hyunjin worked on picking Jisung up without actually waking him. The pair somehow accomplished their task and managed to wrestle Jisung into his room, before curling up with him on the blankets and clothes strewn across the floor. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter bc I've been sick for the past two weeks and I'm really tired lol
> 
> But on the upside my gf asked me to homecoming today!!!!!
> 
> Follow me on Twitter @6_intricate


	12. Chapter 12

It had hurt to see the other members of Stray Kids getting ready for their promotion stage while Jisung had to get ready for another therapy appointment. 

JYPE had announced last night while Jisung was curled up on the couch with the rest of Stray Kids that the rapper was out of promotions until further notice due to mental health reasons and Jisung was currently scrolling through Twitter doing his best not to cry. Stay were so supportive and that just made Jisung want to perform even more. He wished more than anything that he could just go up onto that stage and give the performance his all, but instead Jisung had to go to therapy instead of the stage. 

“Chan are you sure I couldn’t just go and perform? I really do feel fine. Yesterday was just a fluke,” Jisung asked, wandering into the kitchen, phone in hand.

Chan just sighed in response. “Jisung, I’m really sorry, but you can’t perform. Yesterday wasn’t a fluke, but instead a result of our negligence to your mental health. It’s important that you work on getting better before you jump back into high-stress environments.”

“But performing really won’t make anything worse. I promise that I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah? Like you were fine yesterday? Like how you were fine a few days ago when I found you in the bathroom panicking and crying after our performance?” Minho’s cutting words made Jisung physically recoil. The dancer was normally so nice and caring, the first to help Jisung back up, to assist him in solving a problem. But today, Minho seemed fed up, done with all of Jisung’s bullshit. 

“Jisung, we really care about you and that means that we’re going to make you take this small break because it’s the best thing for you. You need time to talk with your therapist and figure out your meds and stuff. You need to be in a better place mentally in order to perform. We don’t want a repeat of yesterday.”

“There’s not going to be a repeat of yesterday.  _ I’m fine _ .” Jisung said, heavy emotion leaking into his words. “I just want to be able to perform with you guys, be a part of this team. I don’t want my stupid brain to get in the way of my dreams. I just really, really want to be up there with you guys tonight.”

Jisung was dimly aware of the tears that were burning at the corners of his eyes as he spoke, his words cracking with emotion. 

“Oh Jisung,” Minho wrapped his arms around Jisung’s smaller body, Chan joining in seconds later. “We’re never going to leave you alone Jisung, we’re a team. This is just a temporary thing until you feel better. It’d be the exact same with any physical illness.” Chan said, hand rubbing reassuring circles onto the younger’s back. “Everything is going to be okay and we’re going to get through this together, yeah?”

“I just really want to perform,” Jisung choked out, tears finally spilling down his cheeks.

“I know,” Chan’s voice cracked and he hugged Jisung tighter to his chest, “I know you do, but your health comes first.”

“At least you don’t have to worry about Changbin stealing your dinner tonight,” Minho said, squeezing Jisung’s arm as he pulled away from the hug, unshed tears shining softly in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Jisung replied, “I’ll be sure to convince the driver to stop and get me icecream on the way home and I won’t get any for you guys.”

“Hey,” Hyunjin screached as he entered the room, “you won’t even get me icecream?”

“No, it’s going to be my icecream and no one else’s,” Jisung retorted, the corners of his mouth lifting up slightly at their banter. 

However, Jisung’s mood was soon crushed by Woojin entering the kitchen. “Jisung you need to leave now in order to get to your appointment on time.”

“Do I really have to go?” Jisung muttered as he slunked over the front door and began the process of finding a pair of his boots from the pile of shoes at the front door.

“Yeah buddy you really do have to go, but I’ll walk you to the car,” Woojin said, ruffling Jisung’s hair as the younger pouted up at him, doing his best puppy eyes.

However, Woojin was used to Jeongin using his cuteness to sway the members to his side and all too soon, Jisung found himself being led out the door and into the awaiting car by Woojin. At least the older had the decency to hold his hand the entire walk downstairs and gave Jisung a hug goodbye. “Please don’t hesitate to call us if you need something and text either Chan or I when you get back home, okay?”

“Yes mom,” Jisung said, climbing into the van, unable to resist the opportunity to tease Woojin even though he was still upset about not being able to perform.

Woojin, for his part, just rolled his eyes in response and shut the car door, waving goodbye as the driver began to drive away. Jisung waved back, only stopping when Woojin was completely out of sight.

Once Woojin disappeared from sight, the full weight of the situation hit Jisung like a brick. Up until now he hadn’t really come to terms with what had happened, hadn’t allowed himself to truly think about the ramifications of everything that had happened in the past few days. He had been so focused on just getting through every day, on just putting one foot in front of the other, on convincing everyone around him that he was fine, that Jisung had never considered how he felt, whether or not he was actually fine. 

But now, Jisung had 30 minutes to stew in his feelings and it was awful. 

The minute Woojin was out of sight, Jisung’s chest tightened, his stomach started to turn itself into knots, and he started to rub his hands together. His skin felt too tight and everything around him was blurring, the world crashing down. He felt awful and anxious and sad and he hated it. 

It was the same as he had felt all week and Jisung just wanted it to stop. He wanted his brain to stop overreacting to everything, to stop being such a mess. Jisung just wanted to be normal, to feel normal. But he didn’t feel normal, didn’t feel calm. Instead he felt as if every single one of his nerves had been wound as tightly as possible and set on fire. He felt as if he was dying on the inside, body slowly decaying away into nothingness.

The amount of ‘not okay’ that Jisung felt was staggering and he wanted nothing more than for all of it to stop. Maybe his members were right, maybe he did need a break. He couldn;t even get his own emotions together enough for one single car ride, how was he supposed to perform on stage? Jisung was a useless hopeless mess, and everyone had finally realized it. With this kind of mental state he didn’t deserve to be in Stray Kids. They should just kick him out like the untalented mess that he was. 

 

Jisung was startled out of his unhealthy train of thought by the car being put into park. They were at the therapist’s office.

The first thing Jsung did upon entering Dr. Kim’s office was pet Gom, because the small dog was just too cute to resist. The second thing he did was plop down on the couch. “I don’t want to be here.” Jisung announced, still scratching Gom behind his ears.

Dr. Kim let out a small smile at Jisung’s words. “Where would you rather be?”

“Performing with the rest of my members, but the other day wasn’t really the best for me and neither was the day before so I guess they decided that I shouldn’t perform, but truly, I’d be fine dancing on stage.” 

“Hmm,” Dr. Kim tapped her pen on her clipboard, “How about you tell me about the past couple of days so I can get a better idea of what’s going on.”

And with that, Jisung’s therapy session was on track; he told Dr. Kim about everything that had happened since their last session, how awful he had truly felt, how much he hated his brain, how much he just wanted to be normal, to be able to feel things in a normal way. 

 

An hour later, Jisung was climbing back into the car, deep in thought about what Dr. Kim had said. She had told him to find a phrase that would work for him when he was having panic attacks or dissociating, something that he could repeat over and over to help him calm down and ground himself in reality. She had also told him that she could only help him so much, she could give him the tools to help his anxiety and depression, but it was up to Jisung himself to actually use them. He could get help and support from others, have meds that gave him a competitive edge, but in the end it was Jisung’s fight to fight and no one else could fight it for him. 

To be honest, Jisung hated that. He hated that Dr. Kim said it was going to be a slow process, that his anxiety would never be completely gone, that it would just affect him less and less in his daily life. Jisung hated that it was up to him and him alone to fight.

 At the moment it felt as if his mental illness was leading him, taking over his life. He felt as if there was no way to stop it. He felt helpless and useless against the beast taking over his mind. He felt as if he was trying his very hardest to fight it, but nothing was working, especially now he was off his meds. Dr. Jung had said that his meds were most likely exasperating his depression, but a week off of them and his depression was still bad and his anxiety worse than ever. 

Jisung wasn’t sure how he was ever going to get better, how he was ever going to get his mind under control, but he supposed he should start with his homework assignment from Dr. Kim: finding a phrase that he would use when times were getting bad to help himself calm down and get back to earth. 

But how was he going to come up with such a phrase? There were an infinite number of things he could say, but nothing seemed quite right. Dr. Kim had suggested things such as “it’s all going to be okay” and “this will pass”, but those didn’t seem quite right. He wanted his phrase to click, to feel intrinsically right for him. 

However there was no clear answer, Jisung really hadn’t found anything that always helped with his panic attacks, there was nothing that came to mind that was an inherently calming phrase. He had no clue what to do.

 

The rest of the drive home was in a daze, Jisung was too deep in thought to focus on anything real. He barely remembered to text Woojin that he had made it back to the dorm before he jumped into the shower and let the warm water rush over him and clear the troubling thoughts from his mind.

He wished he could just be like the water, cool and calm, just going with the flow.

Suddenly it came to Jisung. His phrase should be “Be like water: calm, cool, and collected”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there’s any mistakes, I’m posting this in my ten minute break at work.
> 
> Also please follow me on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/6_intricate)

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to just be a one shot, but it got really long so now it's multiple chapters lol


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